Her Destiny
by August Song
Summary: When Harry looks in the Mirror of Erisid, instead of seeing his family, he sees a young red-haired girl. But why would a young girl be his greatest desire? And why is Dumbledore so concerned about them? AU.
1. Chapter One: The Girl in the Mirror

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter and co. They are all the property of the fantastic J.K. Rowling. I only own the plot you do not recognize. **

**Title:**** Her Destiny**

**Summary****: When Harry looks in the Mirror of Erised, instead of seeing his family, he sees a young red-haired girl. But why would a young girl be his greatest desire? And why is Dumbledore so concerned about them? AU.**

* * *

Chapter One: The Girl in the Mirror

Harry carefully eased the door shut, making sure to keep the handle turned. The last thing he needed was for it to click loudly when it closed. He pressed his ear against the door, listening intently to the footsteps of Snape and Filch passing the door, before heading off in the other direction. He breathed a sigh of relief – it had been a close call - and let his invisibility cloak fall to the floor. He didn't want to chance trying to get back to Gryffindor tower just yet, as they would still be searching for him. He settled down on the floor, only then taking a look at his surroundings.

It looks like just like any other empty classroom: desks piled along one wall, a blackboard with notes about transfiguration on another. But something in the far corner of the room caught his eye.

The mirror stood leaning against the far wall. Harry had never quite seen anything like it before. Almost tall enough to reach the ceiling, with an ornate frame that appeared to be made of real gold, standing on two clawed feet. The inscription, written along the top of the mirror in a script, read: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on whosi._

He approached the mirror cautiously. He had been at Hogwarts long enough to know that things rarely were what they appeared to be. And surely, a mirror quite like this hadn't been placed in that room by mistake. It was the type of thing that should have been on display, somewhere where people could see it and admire it. The kind of thing that decorated the homes of the wealthy, not the corners of unused classrooms.

As he moved closer, one of the mirror's peculiarities struck him. Though he should have been able to see his reflection in it, it showed only the empty room behind him, as if he had still been wearing his invisibility cloak. He moved to one side, waving his hand in front of the glass. Nothing.

He could no longer hear tell of Snape or Filch in the corridor outside, but he was now far too curious about the mirror to leave right then. Any thought of sleep or returning to his bed had vanished from his mind. He moved quickly, standing directly in front of the mirror to inspect it more clearly.

What he saw looking back at him was the last thing he would have expected.

A young girl stood in the mirror before him. She was pretty, and somehow familiar, though he couldn't quite figure out why. She had bright, red hair that hung almost to her waist, deep brown eyes, and freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. She blushed and giggled when she noticed him staring at her, and quickly directed her gaze towards her shoes. Harry felt himself flush as well, embarrassed having been caught looking.

He shook his head. What did he possibly have to be embarrassed about? He wasn't looking at a real person. She was merely an image in a very strange, if rather magnificent, mirror. Granted, a little girl had not been what he would have expected to see and it had caught him a little off-guard, but his surprise did not make her any more real.

He looked up to the inscription on the mirror again. What could it mean? It didn't look like any language that he had ever seen. And what did the mirror do? Obviously, it was no ordinary mirror. But he couldn't understand why it would show him this girl. What was so special about her? And why did he feels as though he knew this girl?

Taking one last quick glance in the mirror, he retrieved his invisibility cloak and began to make his way back to Gryffindor tower, the image of the girl branded in his mind.

* * *

_The lake in front of him looked terribly inviting. He longed to dive in, feel the refreshing, cool water around him. But the Dursley's had never taken him to the pool or allowed him to take any lessons, and he wasn't so sure he would be able to keep his head above the water. Unable to resist completely, he slipped off his trainers and let the water wash up over his feet, feeling instant relief from the blistering heat. _

"_Harry!" a voice called from behind him, almost making him fall, face first, into the water._

_He spun around quickly, and was surprised to see the red-haired girl from the mirror running towards him. She wore a pretty blue sundress, white sandals, and a look of annoyance on her face. She ran up to where he had left his trainers. She toed out of her shoes and slipped the dress over her head, revealing a green bathing suit. She left her clothes in a haphazard pile next to his things before joining him in the water._

"_You said you would wait for me," she said, poking him in the arm. _

"_S...Sorry?" he replied, unsure of when he had made this particular promise. _

"_That's okay," she said, the look of annoyance disappearing from her face. Suddenly, she bolted, taking off into the water, yelling, "Catch me!"_

_He moved to go after her. She was laughing and shrieking as she splashed, trying to move away from him as quickly as possible. Her excitement was almost tangible. He turned to dive in after her, but caught himself._

"_Wait! I can't swim!" he called to this girl, who was now a good twenty metres away from him, as the cool water splashed over the legs of his cuffed pants. _

"_Sure, you can," she replied, simply. She had turned and was floating on her back, facing him. "You were doing really well last time."_

_Last time? His mind was racing; this was all very strange. But the water did feel really nice, and for some strange reason, he felt as though he could trust her. Even though he didn't know her name or how she knew him, he knew she would not lie to him. He took a deep breath and dived into the water... __  
_

Harry woke with a start, the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead tingling. It was early, and the other boys in his dorm were still fast asleep. He reached over, grabbing his watch from the nightstand beside his bed. Six in the morning. Far too early to be awake, but he knew that he would not be able to fall back to sleep.

Harry threw his sheets off, sat up in his bed, and rubbed his scar. This wasn't the first time he had dreamed of the girl from the mirror. Since that night, he had dreamed of her on a nightly basis. It was almost always the same dream. They would swim in the lake, and he would always feel strangely close to her, as though they had known each other forever. He knew, just by looking at her, that he could trust her. And he would always wake up just as he dived into the water.

He wished, much like he did every morning, that he had asked her what her name was. It seemed strange that he had been dreaming of her for nearly a month now, and still he didn't know who she was. If he had a name, he might be able to figure out why she looked so familiar.

He looked over at his best friend, snoring in the bed next to him. He wanted to talk to someone about this. But Ron didn't seem like the right person. Sure, he was Harry's best friend, but he would probably just think that he was overreacting or was going crazy. It would most likely be just a joke to Ron, and he felt that this had to be more serious. Joke dreams couldn't possibly reoccur this often, and he could not see why a joke dream would cause his scar to tingle.

As he contemplated his situation, a thought struck him. Hermione! He hadn't even thought of telling her about it. Surely she would understand his concerns and maybe even be able to find a solution for him. Knowing her, she would have read a book about it. And if not, she was still a girl, and might understand better than another guy would. She would be far less likely to laugh at him than others might be.

Swinging his legs out of bed, he gathered his things to get ready for the day. He knew Hermione often went down to breakfast early, usually before the rest of them had even woken up. The last thing he needed was someone overhearing his predicament. If he felt a little silly talking about a dream, others would definitely take it the wrong way. The last thing he needed was anyone thinking he belonged in a loony bin.

Just as he had hoped, the Great Hall was nearly empty when he arrived, aside from a few prefects milling about at the far end of the hall. Hermione sat alone about halfway down the Gryffindor table, ignoring the piece of toast in her hand. She was completely focused on the large book she had propped up on the fruit bowl in front of her. She didn't look up when Harry sat down next to her.

"'Morning," she said, her eyes still on her book. She was quiet for a moment, as she finished up the paragraph she was reading. Harry waited patiently. He had been friends with Hermione long enough to know that she didn't like stopping halfway though what she was reading. After she had finished, she looked up at him and said, "You're up early."

Harry nodded, grabbing a piece of toast from the plate in front of him and buttering it.

"Strange dreams," he explained, feeling a little foolish.

"What about?" she inquired, placing a napkin in her book to mark her place.

He took a bite of toast, trying to decide how to best word his explanation. It was an awkward situation at best, and he wasn't too keen on explaining the situation to someone. It almost felt as if it were a private matter that was not allowed to be discussed. But the whole issue had been weighing heavily on his mind since he first visited the mirror, and Hermione was probably the most trustworthy of his friends.

He haltingly told her about escaping Snape and Filch, what he saw when he looked in the mirror, and the dreams he had been having since. Hermione hung onto his every word, watching him as he stammered and blushed, their breakfast sitting forgotten on the table.

"That is rather strange," Hermione said, going back to her cold breakfast. "And the mirror was just sitting in an old classroom? From what you said, it seems like something that should be kept somewhere safe, not left where anyone can find it."

"That's what I thought," he replied, spearing the last of his toast with his fork absently. Then an idea struck him. "We should go back tonight. I can show you the mirror."

Hermione expression changed quickly to a more hesitant one. He knew that she hated the thought of breaking school rules, and being out of bed after hours definitely fell into that category. How many times had she lectured him and Ron about breaking rules before they had become friends? But at the same time, he could tell she was intrigued by the curious nature of the mirror.

"I don't know, Harry," she said, looking around. More students had come into the hall, and now they were at risk of being overheard. "We could get in a lot of trouble."

"Come on, Hermione," he pleaded. He needed to figure this out before his dreams convinced him that he was actually a bit barmy. "We could take the invisibility cloak, so no one would see us. And I'm sure I can remember where to find the classroom. We'll just go, have a look, and go right back to the tower."

He could see her trying to find a loophole that he hadn't thought of. After a moment of contemplating, she gave him a defeated look, and said, "Fine. We'll go at midnight. We better not get caught."

At five to midnight, Harry found himself pacing around the common room, his invisibility cloak concealed under his robes. The last of the students who had been milling about, the Weasley twins, had gone to bed a half an hour earlier. He had been a bit relieved when they had left, since they had spent a fair amount of time interrogating him on a variety of products he had never heard of.

He was nervous, to say the least. He might have been exaggerating slightly when he said he could remember the location of the classroom. He had a rough idea, but after a month he wasn't so sure on some of the details. And what if they got there and the mirror was gone? Or what if it didn't work, and didn't show him the red-haired girl again? Hermione would have his head for making her break the rules for nothing. He could only hope that his instincts and curiosity would lead him in the right direction, making this trip as quick and painless as possible.

The butterflies in his stomach doubled when he heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs from the girl's dormitory. A moment later, Hermione came into view, looking slightly panic-stricken.

"You brought the cloak?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Right here," he replied, pulling it out from under his robes.

"Let's get this over with," she said, moving towards him.

He pulled the cloak over the two of them, taking extra care to straighten it so they would be completely hidden from view. The quietly exited the dormitory and, ignoring the confused, groggy comments from the Fat Lady about the portrait hole opening and closing when no one was there, made their way towards the empty classroom.

"I thought you said you knew where it was!" Hermione said a while later, in an accusatory tone.

They had been wandering around for the better part of fifteen minutes now, and Hermione was getting impatient. Harry had been sure that he had turned right when he ran out of the library and then took a left at the next corridor. But everything around him looked unfamiliar, and he wasn't exactly sure where he was. He knew there had been a suit of armour, and he had gone in the door right after it.

"There!" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, pointing down the hall to where the familiar suit of armour stood.

"Are you sure?" Hermione inquired, doubtful. He could hardly blame her at this point. They had been wandering around the same corridor for a while.

"Positive," he replied, leading them in the direction of the door.

He looked up and down the corridor, making sure they were alone, before carefully easing the door open and slipping inside. To his great relief, the mirror still stood in the same spot, leaning against the far wall.

Beside him, Hermione was in awe of the magnificent object in front of her. He was sure he heard her whisper something to the effect of _'bloody fantastic'_, but he was sure he had imagined it. That was something he would have expected Ron to say, not Hermione.

"Come here," he said, grabbing her wrist, bringing her focus back onto the problem at hand. "Stand here." He nudged her until she was standing in the exact place he had been when he saw the girl staring back at him. "What do you see?"

Hermione gasped in surprised, leaning closer to the mirror to get a better look. He waited a moment, as she looked behind her, back in the mirror, then shook her head, smiling.

"I see myself, but older," she said, finally. Harry's jaw dropped in surprise. "I'm holding an award... I think I discovered something important. Something that is going to change things. And I..." She trailed off, her face turning a bright crimson.

Harry didn't push her to keep going. He was confused. Why didn't Hermione see a person too? Why did she only see herself? It just didn't make sense. He had wanted her to see the little red haired girl. He had hoped she would recognize her and would be able to give him an idea what he was seeing her in the mirror. Hermione seeing herself older was not helping his predicament. He gave her another moment in the mirror, though. It was clear that she was enjoying what she was seeing, and Harry hated to ruin her pleasure.

"Harry," she said, moving away from the mirror, towards him. "Do you think that this mirror shows us the future?"

He shrugged. "Why would my future just be a red-haired girl?"

She didn't have an answer for that one. He moved to where she had stood a moment before, and looked at the girl in the mirror. She smiled at him, and blew him a kiss. She was clearly happier to see him than he was to see her. He gave her a half-smile, his mind racing.

"I think we should check out the library," Hermione said, jotting down the words along the top of the mirror on a piece of parchment from her pocket. "Maybe there's something in there about this mirror. Once we figured out what it does, maybe we'll be able to figure out why it's showing you a girl."

* * *

"Here it is!" Hermione exclaimed, setting the book down in front of Harry.

Their classes and Quidditch kept them busy, but they had still managed to find some time to search the library for books that may give them some answers. He was beginning to give up hope on finding anything, but she had insisted that they continue. He knew he would agree with her. The dreams were still coming every night, and they were beginning to drive him crazy.

This particular Saturday morning had found them cooped up in the library, searching though numerous dusty volumes. Harry had explained to his friend his concerns about telling Ron about the dreams and the girl in the mirror. Thankfully, she understood, and had convinced Fred and George to keep Ron occupied so they could do their research. He had personally thought that it was unnecessary, since Ron would not have wanted to come had they just said they were going to study. But she felt it was best to be on the safe side.

Harry leaned forward over the old, crumbling copy of _Important Magical Inventions of the Eighteenth Century_. He took a moment to find the paragraph Hermione was talking about and began to read.

_'Le Miroir d'Erised, or Mirror of Erised, was invented in the late eighteenth century by Pierre Moreau. It had been created as a tool to learn the motives of enemies during the war. It was designed to show a person's deepest desire, whether they were consciously aware of it or not. It had been hoped, at the time, that it would help the French to discover the plans and goals of their enemies, so they would be prepared for the next attack. However, when enemy soldiers were placed in front of it, most saw their greatest desire to be themselves at home with their families. After testing the mirror on over four hundred soldiers with little progress, the mirror was deemed useless, and sold as a collectors item. As of the early twentieth century, after many wizards had spent their lives in front of it, it was considered to be dangerous and hidden in a safe place, for the common good.'_

Harry's mind was reeling; he could not believe what he had just read. His greatest desire was a red-haired girl? It just didn't make sense. Though he couldn't shake that she looked very familiar, he was sure he had never met her. How could someone he never met be the one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world?

He looked up, catching Hermione's curious eye. He shrugged and closed the large book. He was more confused than when they had started out.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had been pacing back and forth in his office for so long that he periodically had to check to make sure he wasn't wearing a hole in the nice, hardwood floor. It was very rare that a situation come along that left him, for lack of better wording, completely stumped. And after nearly a month of pondering and wondering, he was no further along than when he had started.

He had made a point of checking up on the Mirror of Erisid every now and again since it had been placed it in the old transfiguration classroom. He knew it wasn't the most secure location for such a valuable object. He hoped it was more likely to be overlooked, despite it's ostentatious exterior, if it were stored among old desks and chairs.

For the most part, this had worked. A few students had stumbled across it, many hiding after getting in trouble with Filch, and had not given it a second glance. They had ignored the mirror, focused more on who was searching for them. As soon as the coast was clear, they had taken off, not giving the room a second glance.

But, of course, young Mr. Potter wasn't like the other students. The beautiful mirror had caught his attention, and he had to take a closer look. This didn't particularly surprise the old headmaster. He had been keeping an eye on Harry since he had first arrived at Hogwarts, and knew of how curious the boy could be.

What had surprised him was what they boy had seen in the mirror. He had figured that Harry would have seen his family in the mirror. It made sense: he had never had the chance to know his family, and had grown up at the Dursley's, who filled his basic needs, but done little more. At the very least, he would have expected him to see himself providing a sense of him for his own family.

But he hadn't. Of all things that Dumbledore had thought that the boy might have seen, a little, red-haired girl was not one of them. In fact, it was probably the last thing he would have expected Harry to see.

It didn't make sense. There were so many things he could long for: a proper family, a normal childhood, a normal fate. So why would his greatest desire be a girl, no older than he? Did boys his age even think about girls as anything more than friends?

He sat down at his desk, his pounding head in his hands. He would have to look into this. He hated the thought that this boy might be burdened with something more than he already had. Surely a book in his large collection would be able to explain this peculiar situation. Another ability of the mirror's perhaps.

He stood, and moved towards his private library at the back of his office, wondering what else fate could have possibly placed on his poor boy's shoulders.

* * *

_The red-haired girl was lying in bed, writing in a notebook. The breeze coming through her window was frigid, but she kept herself tucked safe and warm under the heavy blankets on her bed. She didn't mind the cold breeze. The lovely view of the full moon was more than worth it. _

_An older woman with the same red hair came into the room, gasping at the cool temperature in the room. This was clearly something the girl had done before, because the woman didn't say a word about it. She merely smiled at the girl and sat on the bed next to her, pulling an extra blanket over her shoulders._

"_Ready for bed?" the woman asked, as the girl quickly closed the notebook. It must have been a diary or a journal of some sort, because it was clear that the girl didn't want the woman to see what she had written._

"_Almost," replied the girl, with a smile. She slid the notebook and her quill into the drawer in her nightstand. "Will you tell me a story first? Please Mum?"_

"_Aren't you a little too old for bedtime stories?" the woman, the girl's mother, teased. When the girl shook her head, her mother said, "Alright then. What story to do want to hear?"_

_The girl gave her mother a look, as though she had asked a silly question. "The story of Harry Potter!"_

_The mother smiled and began telling the story. It was clear that this was a favourite of the girl's, because she knew it off by heart, interrupting her mother every so often if she accidentally missed something._

"_Mum," the girl said, after the story was finished. "What do you think..."_

"Harry, mate. Wake up!"

Harry woke to Ron shaking his shoulders. He looked around, blearily. He was sitting in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. It took him a moment to get his bearings and figure out what was going on. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but clearly his mind had decided it necessary. He hoped he had just fallen asleep due to lack of proper sleep, and not to have some sort of strange vision about the red-haired girl. Hermione shot him a concerned look, but he shook his head. He knew she would understand it to mean that he had dreamed about the red-haired girl again, but not to bring it up in front of Ron.

"You have ketchup on your eyebrow," Ron said, though a mouthful of eggs. As he ate, he read the letter he had untied from the owl's leg a few minutes earlier. "Oh, and Ginny asked me to tell you that she says hi."

"Tell her I said hi back, I guess," Harry mumbled in reply.

This wasn't the first time he had dreamed that the red-haired girl knew about him. It had been happening fairly frequently lately, starting to replace his dreams of swimming. He had heard her ask either her mother or father to tell the story of what had happened to him at least a dozen times. On other occasions, he had dreamed that she had told her friend, a strange blonde girl, that she was going to marry him someday. Those dreams had been particularly disconcerting. He did not like the idea of getting married to the strange girl from his dreams.

* * *

"What do you see?" Quirrell demanded, growing increasingly more impatient.

Harry knew that somehow, the stone was to be retrieved though the mirror. He didn't know how it worked, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to. This mirror had caused him too much concern already.

But the look on Quirrell's face told him that refusing would be the last thing he did. So he slowly moved towards the mirror, standing directly in front of it.

To his surprise, he saw himself standing in the mirror, with the red-haired girl from his dreams. She smiled as she moved closer to him, then reached in her pocket. She pulled out a blood-red stone, holding it up for him to. He watched as she carefully slipped the stone into the front pocket of his pants. He felt the weight of the stone in his pocket, and he looked up at the mirror, shocked. She smiled again, and kissed his reflection on the cheek before disappearing out of view.

Harry knew he had to lie. He couldn't tell Quirrell about the stone in his pocket. And he definitely couldn't tell him about the girl who had given it to him.

* * *

The train ride back to King's Cross passed entirely too quickly for Harry's liking. As nice as it had been for him to escape the stares and comments that he had been receiving since he had defeated Voldemort for a second time, he didn't look forward to having to spend the next two months stuck at the Dursley's. The only upside to the whole situation was that the Dursleys didn't know that he wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, so he had tormenting his cousin to keep him entertained.

"You'll have to come stay with us this summer, Harry," Ron said, while they were playing their third game of chess. He moved his knight, taking out Harry's castle. "I'm sure you don't want to spend the whole summer at the Dursley's. You too, Hermione, if your parents are okay with it. I'm sure Ginny wouldn't mind."

Harry smiled, taking out Ron's knight. The less time he had to spend with the Dursleys, the better.

"Just so you're warned, though, Harry," Ron continued. He paused, frowning at Harry's last move on the board. "My sister, Ginny. She used to ask Mum and Dad to tell her the story about Harry Potter every night when she was younger. She used to say she was going to marry you someday." He looked up at Harry, and, catching sight of the expression on his best friend's face, he added, "She hasn't said anything like that since she was young. But just so you're warned, incase she starts acting funny or something."

Harry shrugged. People acting funny around him hardly bothered him anymore. After spending a year listening to people whisper about him between classes and, in the case of some of the Slytherins, make nasty comments towards him, he had learned to just ignore them. Or better yet, make friends with them. It had worked with the people in his dorms and in his classes. Why not with his best friend's little sister?

The train began to slow, and Harry's heart sank. He had been doing his best not to think of the long, lonely summer he had ahead of him. Even with Ron's promise that he could visit, he would still have to spend time at the Dursley's, which, no matter how short, was entirely too long.

People hurrying to see their parents jostled Harry around as he slowly moved thought the gate. Ron was walking behind him, rambling on and on about something or other, completely unaware that neither Harry nor Hermione were listening to a word he was saying.

When they passed through the barrier, Hermione hugged him tightly around the shoulders and, after making him promise to write her as soon as possible, she took off towards the dark-haired couple standing to their far right.

"Have a good summer, Harry!"

"See you in September!"

"Bye, Harry!"

Harry tried to respond to everyone that wished him well or said goodbye, but quickly lost track of everyone in the bustling crowds.

"Still famous," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder, with a grin.

"Not where I'm going," he promised, returning the smile.

"Look, Mum! There he is!"

"Be quiet, Ginny. It's rude to point."

"But Mum!"

Harry spun around to see Mrs. Weasley, the woman who had so graciously helped him get onto the platform back in September. Next to her, a girl with bright red hair...

Harry was sure his heart had stopped. A shock that big had to have had some sort of effect on it. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, sure he was just seeing things. It had all been a figment of his imagination.

But when he looked up again, he knew it couldn't just be his imagination. It was definitely very real.

It was the red-haired girl from his dreams.


	2. Chapter Two: Ginny Weasley

**I was so surprised at the response I received from the first chapter. It was more than I could have ever hoped for, and definitely at great incentive to write a bit faster. I had planned on posting this tomorrow, but since I received so many reviews, alerts and favourites, I decided I might as well post it today. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Ginny Weasley**

A month into his summer vacation, and Harry still hadn't heard from any of his friends. At the beginning of the summer when Dudley had made comments about his friends not trying to contact him, he had laughed it off. After all, he knew they were busy. Hermione had mentioned that her parents had a trip to her grandmother's planned for the beginning of the summer, and Ron had a huge family to keep him occupied. He hadn't worried then. They would contact him once they had some time to themselves.

But as the weeks passed, he began to feel a little concerned. He wanted to send them letters to find out what was going on or why they weren't contacting him. But the Dursley's had locked Hedwig in her cage when they first returned from King's Cross, so that wasn't an option. He would sit in his window every night (his schoolbooks were locked away, so he didn't really have anything better to do), waiting to see an owl heading his way with news from one of them. But nothing came. He was starting to worry that Dudley had been right, and that his friends really didn't want to talk to him.

He had spent a good chunk of his summer looking forward to visiting the Burrow, as Ron had promised on the train. But now, that didn't look like it was going to be a possibility.

He paced the room, feeling lonelier than ever. If they weren't giving him lists of chores to do, the Dursley's ignored him for the most part. And Dudley had ensured that none of the kids in their primary school would want to go near him, leaving him with no one to talk to outside the house. So aside from tormenting Dudley a bit, he spent his days on his own, counting down the days until he returned to Hogwarts and things got back to normal.

He gave up pacing and laid down on his bed, staring out at the moon outside his window. He couldn't help but wonder if Ginny, the red-haired girl he had seen when he looked in the mirror of Erisid, was at the Burrow, doing the same thing.

He had been thinking about this girl a lot since he realized who she was at King's Cross a month before. Surely she had to be important to him somehow. Otherwise, why would he have seen her in the mirror?

It was strange. The more he thought about her and the more he dreamed about her, the more he knew he needed to get to know her. He wasn't sure why, but he knew she was important. Had he been allowed to let Hedwig out, he might have been sorely tempted to send a letter to her.

The whole thing was beginning to hurt his head. He didn't know why he had seen her in the mirror, and he didn't know why he dreamed about her every night. He longed to talk to someone about it, even if they didn't know any more about why it was happening than he did. If nothing else, just to get the whole thing off of his chest and keep it from crushing him alive.

He wanted to talk to Hermione. She had been the one he been talking to from the start. She didn't understand it, and true, it sometimes got irritating to listen to her make up theories regarding what was going on. But at least she listening to him when he needed to talk about it. At least she didn't think he was going mad, which he sometimes thought might be the real reason behind the whole thing.

He rolled over and tried to fall asleep, even though it was only just after ten. At least, in his dreams, he didn't feel the loneliness that seemed to plague his waking hours. If nothing else, he had the red-haired girl, Ginny, to keep him company in his dreams.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was sure she had never slept better in her life. Normally, she loved to sleep in and stay in bed until the late hours of the morning. There was just something to starting the day enjoying the peace and quiet of her bedroom. But today, she had woken early and despite some rather peculiar dreams about flying cars, she felt completely awake. To her surprise, she had no desire to stay under the covers.

She took her time as she brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her long, red hair. None of her brothers appeared to be up yet, probably due to the early hour. She enjoyed being able to take as long as she wanted to in the bathroom and not have to worry about someone banging on the door, begging her to hurry up, pretty please with sugar on top. She was able to spend as long as she wanted brushing her hair until it looked sleek and shiny and scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror.

As she headed down to breakfast, she realized that this would be the first time in a long while that she would be at breakfast before the boys were. Her mother went all out for breakfast during the summer, since there were so many people to feed. But since she usually slept late in the morning, she often got stuck with the leftovers. But today, she would be able to have first choice of whatever her mother had prepared. It was nothing special, since it would still be the same food, but it would be nice for a change.

She stretched as she came down the stairs, working out the stiffness in her back. But she stopped mid-stretch when she caught sight of the breakfast table. As it turned out, some of her brothers were out of bed. And it looked like they had company. She stopped dead when she realized who it was. She knew she probably looked dumb, but she was so shocked that she couldn't react for a moment.

Harry Potter. She knew it was him right away. While she had only seen him in passing at King's Cross, for the last few months, she had been seeing him every night in her dreams. They would swim in the lake, wander around Hogwarts, or just sit and talk. Sometimes, she would even see him with Ron and who she assumed was their friend Hermione. She had dreamed of him so many times that she could have picked him out of a crowd of hundreds easily. She knew his appearance like the back of her hand, and felt as though she knew him nearly as well, as silly as that might sound.

Before she could control herself and after the shock had passed, she let out a high-pitched squeal, clapping her hand over her mouth. She could feel herself turning bright red as the boy looked over, catching her eye. They both held the contact for a couple of seconds, before Ginny turned on her heel and fled back to the safety of her bedroom. As she scaled the stairs, she could hear Ron say, "Ginny. My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

As she slammed the door behind her, she felt her anger flaring towards Ron. First of all, she had not been talking about Harry all summer. If anything, she had been talking about him less than ever, because she was afraid of accidently saying too much about her strange dreams. The last thing she needed was her parents finding out that she was dreaming of Harry Potter every single night.

And sure, maybe she had pushed her parents a couple of times to rescue him from the Durlsey's. But Ron had been pestering them practically every waking hour that he wasn't playing quidditch or stuffing his stupid face. So he could hardly accuse her of talking about him constantly. Not when he had been pretty much doing the same thing.

Secondly, why hadn't her brothers warned her that he would be there? If she had know, she would have gotten dressed, instead of going down to breakfast in her nightdress. A little bit of consideration would have been nice, and would have saved her from making a fool out of herself in front of the Boy-Who-Lived. That wasn't an unreasonable request, was it?

She changed out of her nightdress, pulling on a pair of shorts and a shirt, before heading back down to breakfast. She hated to go back down after she had embarrassed herself so much, but she knew she couldn't hide in her room to avoid Harry. Especially when he was going to be staying with them for the rest of the summer.

She pushed her frustrations with her brothers out of her mind. In he back of her mind, she knew she shouldn't expect her brothers to consider her thoughts on what they did. Other than Bill, none of them really thought twice about what she thought. And, of course, they wouldn't consider what she would think about Harry Potter sitting at the kitchen table when she came down for breakfast. She sighed, wondering (not for the first time) what it would be like if she didn't have a bunch of older brothers.

But by the time she was back in the kitchen, her mother had sent the boys outside to de-gnome the garden as punishment. She still wasn't sure what they did to get Harry to the Burrow, but it had clearly upset their mother. The only time that her mother scrubbed the breakfast dishes by hand was when she was upset with the boys. In a way, she was glad. At least now, she could have her breakfast in peace, and not have to worry about facing Harry until later. She hoped that he wouldn't think her a silly little girl because of her stupid reaction earlier that morning.

* * *

Ginny was sitting in the garden, reading an old, worn copy of Hogwarts: A History. Percy had given it to her the other day, when she had been pestering him with a constant stream of questions about the castle. She hadn't thought she was being annoying and she hadn't wanted to be; she just wanted to know as much information as possible about the school she would be going to for the next seven years. But that was Percy for you. He only wanted to help when it was convenient to him, or when it benefitted him. Stupid prat.

She had laid out an old blanket on the grass between the house and the pond. From there, she could hear the radio her mother had playing in the kitchen while she made supper, she could watch the boys splash around in the pond, and be able to see the town down the hill, as well as enjoy her book in the sunshine. She would have preferred to play Quidditch with Bill, but he had just recently left, and she knew none of her other brothers would allow her to use their brooms. She did enjoy reading though, so there were far worse ways she could be spending her afternoon. And besides, from there, she was able to watch Harry without looking too suspicious.

She watched as Harry, Ron and George teamed up together to push Fred off the wharf and into the water. It was quite the battle, but Fred turned out of be pretty good at dodging them and keeping his ground. He had managed to fend off both Harry and George, while pushing a very loud Ron off the side. She watched as Harry quickly whispered something to George and they both faked a push, and caught Fred sideways when he lunged at them. She couldn't help but laugh out loud at the rather colourful language Fred spewed when his head surfaced above the water.

Tearing her attention away from her silly brothers, she went back to her book. She knew it was a textbook and reading it during the summer probably wouldn't win her any popularity points when she got to Hogwarts, but it was very interesting. Though only two chapters in, she had learned a lot of fascinating information about the castle. And she knew this book was on her list for the coming year, and it might be beneficial to get a bit ahead while she could.

This was how she had spent most of her days since Harry's arrival. Since they had picked him up in the flying car, they had, for the most part, taken to ignoring her in favour of him. Not that she could blame them. Harry Potter was definitely a far more interesting person to hang around with than their little, kid sister. So she spent most of her time on her own, reading or writing in her journal, or sometimes helping her mum in the kitchen. She sometimes contemplated asking to join her brothers and Harry, but she knew they probably wouldn't let her.

She laid back on her blanket, her book open on her stomach, feeling the sun warm her face. It was so nice in the garden, with the smell of her mum's flowers and the birds chirping in the distance. She might have fallen asleep, if someone hadn't interrupted her solitude.

"Why aren't you swimming?" a quiet voice asked from beside her.

She jumped, startled, her book falling closed with a dull thump. She looked around, feeling a bit disorientated. Maybe she had fallen asleep.

She looked to her right, where Harry was standing, the corners of his mouth curling the slightest bit, as though trying not to smile. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. She tried to answer him, but the words seemed to get tangled up in her throat. She felt her face turn red and mentally kicked herself. Why couldn't she just talk like a normal person around Harry?

"So, why aren't you swimming?" he asked again, when she didn't manage to answer him.

She looked pointedly at the wharf, where George was wrestling Ron, each trying to knock the other into the water. Harry followed her gaze, laughing when he caught sight of the two boys.

"I guess that makes sense," he said, catching her off guard by sitting down next to her on the blanket.

By this point, her heart was racing. She was confused. Why was Harry suddenly talking to her? Of course, this wasn't the first time he had spoken to her in the past week. But usually, he was just being polite, asking if she was excited to go to Hogwarts or what class she thought would be the most interesting. Just the usual questions that one would ask to include someone in a conversation. He had never really gone out of his way to talk to her before. It had only ever been over the dinner table, or when they both found themselves waiting for the bathroom to be free.

Though, come to think of it, she had noticed him watching her a bit. Nothing major and not in a creepy way, but every so often she'd catch him looking at her, as if he was trying to figure something out. It had been a bit strange at first, but by now, she had gotten used to his furtive glances and had just taken to ignoring them.

But what was she supposed to do now? The boy who she had dreamed about marrying as a little girl, the boy who's story she had heard almost every night since she could remember, was sitting beside her, chatting as if they were good friends. What was she supposed to say? She had never been good at making friends because she was always too shy. Most of the friends she had now she had met because their parents were friends and forced them together, or in Luna's case, they were the only two girls around the same age who lived nearby. She wasn't sure she knew how to make friends with someone else. Especially not a boy, and definitely not the Boy-Who-Lived.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of something Ron might have mentioned in one of his letters that she could ask him about. But all she could think of was that had happened with the Philosopher's Stone and You-Know-Who, and she assumed he wouldn't want to talk about that. She silently cursed Ron for not talking about him more in his letters. It would have been far more beneficial to know more about his hobbies and interests right about then.

"Do you play quidditch?" Harry asked, dragging her from her thoughts. She instantly felt grateful that she hadn't had to make a fool of herself by asking something stupid.

"Yes," she said quickly, before catching herself.

Her brothers didn't know that she practised when they weren't around, using their brooms since she didn't have one of her own. She was pretty good by now, but her brothers would definitely be mad if they knew she had been using their brooms without their permission. If they knew, they might never take her out to practise again, and she would get to fly even less.

"But please, don't tell my brothers," she added, quickly. "I practise at night, or when they're not home. I don't have my own broom and they would kill me if they knew I was using theirs. I'm only supposed to use Bill's old Shooting Star, but it goes so slow. The twins have Cleansweeps, which are a lot better, so I borrow theirs when they aren't looking. Please don't tell them."

Harry laughed a little. "Don't worry, I won't tell them," he said, and she sighed in relief. "What position would you want to play?"

They continued talking for the better part of an hour. Ginny told him about her opinion on each of the positions, and which she would rather play on the house team, and some of the local games her father had taken her and her brothers to see. She listened as Harry talked about his first time on a broomstick, and gave her detailed descriptions of each of the games he had played during the last year. They discussed their favourite moves to do on their brooms and the best fouls they had seen. They hadn't even noticed the strange looks they had been receiving from Ron and the twins.

"You should play with us sometime," Harry said, after they had been talking a while.

"I don't think so," she said, sadly. She would love to play quidditch with him. In fact, there were few things she would love more than to play her favourite game with the Harry Potter. But it wasn't likely that it was going to happen any time soon.

"Why not?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see her better.

She shrugged, then motioned towards her brothers, who had given up wrestling each other and were lazily floating around in the water. "They'd never let me. I don't think they even know I can fly. And they never include me in their stuff, either because I'm younger or because I'm a girl."

"Oh," was all Harry said, as he stared down at his hands, a strange expression crossing his face. The pair were quiet for a moment, both absorbed in their own thoughts.

Ginny looked over at the boy next to her, surprised at how things had changed since he had first come over to talk to her. Though they'd only been talking for about an hour, she couldn't help but feel as though they had been good friends for a really long time. They had had a number of things in common, most importantly, quidditch and flying.

And he was very easy to talk to. Despite barely knowing him, she felt as though she could trust him with her deepest, darkest secrets. A couple of times, she had to catch herself before accidently revealing something personal. It was as though they were meant to be friends.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, suddenly. She nodded.

"Have you ever...?"

But before he could ask his question, they were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley yelling that dinner was ready. It didn't surprise her at all when Harry abandoned his question completely and bolted into the house. He was a boy, after all. Her brothers were all the same. They thought more with their stomachs that with their heads.

Curiosity about what he could have possibly wanted to ask her stayed with her for the rest of the day. She shrugged to herself. Oh well. If it was really important, he would bring it up again later.

* * *

Days at the Burrow quickly fell into a rhythm for Harry. He would get up in the morning and eat breakfast with the Weasleys. After breakfast, he would help out with chores around the Burrow. He felt it was the least he could do, since they were letting him stay there for nearly a month. So he helped de-gnome the garden, pull weeds or do the breakfast dishes by hand. Mrs. Weasley would tell him every day that he didn't need to help since he was a guest, but he insisted and she eventually relented a little.

After lunch, he would practise quidditch with Ron and the twins. They would play two-on-two games in the paddock, using an old well-worn quaffle. It was a bit harder to play with than the high quality ones at Hogwarts, but it worked for what they were doing. On days where it was particularly warm, they would go swimming in the pond after their practise.

After dinner, Harry would hang out with Ginny.

It had taken him nearly a week before he spoke to Ginny alone. He had asked her a couple of questions about Hogwarts when he had first arrived, but they hadn't really sparked up any conversation. But after everything that had happened during the last few months, he knew he had to get to know her. She had to be important somehow, since she had shown up in his dreams so often (curiously it had stopped when he had arrived at the Burrow). He just had to figure out how to get talking to her.

It had been easier than he had thought it would be. He had been swimming with Ron and the twins when he had seen her sitting alone in the garden, reading. The others had been so busy wrestling and trying to knock each other into the water that he figured they wouldn't even notice him missing. He had ignored the butterflies that had appeared in his stomach at the idea of talking to her. He usually wasn't one to make the first move when it came to making friends.

He had been grasping at straws, trying to figure out what to talk to her about when he first approached her. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of something before approaching her. It had turned out to be easier than he had thought. As it turned out, she was a big quidditch fan as well. And from there, the conversation had flowed.

In the evenings, they would play chess or gobstones, take walks around the perimeter of the Weasley's property, or just sit and talk. He found her very easy to talk to, and he enjoyed the time he spent alone with her. It had come to a point where that was the one thing he looked forward to every day.

* * *

"Come on, Harry!" Ron called, jumping up from the kitchen table and starting to run outside after the twins. "I want to beat Fred and George today."

Harry immediately jumped to his feet, eager to get going on their daily quidditch game. Fred and George had been continuously beating them soundly, and both he and Ron were eager to give them a taste of their own medicine. They had spent the day before looking up tricks that might give them a chance against the twins, and they were excited to try them out.

But just as he was about to race out to the paddock after Ron, something caught his eye.

Ginny was sitting at the table behind him, pushing the last of her lunch around her plate, a sad expression on her face. He knew she wanted to play quidditch along with them, but her brothers would never allow it. She had spent a good chunk of the evening before complaining to him about how unfair it was. He hated to see her upset, and felt the urge to do something to make her smile again.

"Hey, Ginny," he said, moving towards her. Ron and the twins might be mad at him for this, but he didn't care. Ginny was his friend too, and he didn't want her to be left out. "Do you want to play with us? We can take turns on my broom."

"Sure!" she exclaimed, obviously excited to be included in their game. Just as she had reached the door, she hesitated. "What about Ron and the twins? They're never going to let me play, even if I am on your broom."

"Don't worry about them," he replied, smiling. He was pleased to see the smile return to her face. "I'll deal with them."

Ginny smiled and jumped up, eager to get out to the paddock to play. They quickly cleared away the remaining lunch dishes from the table, then made their way across the field together. It took a couple of minutes to walk to the paddock, so they filled the silence with quiet chat about the weather and what they had eaten during lunch. Harry could tell that Ginny thought this was all too good to be true, and that she figured that the boys still wouldn't let her play when they got there.

"Took you long enough, mate," Ron called to Harry when they arrived at the paddock. "Come on! I want to beat Fred and George today."

"Wait!" Harry called, and Ron and the twins slowed to a hover on their brooms. "Ginny's going to play with us."

As expected, the boys broke out into complaints. She was too young. She was a girl. Could she even ride a broom by herself? Harry waited patiently for them to quiet down. He had hung out with them enough during the past year at Hogwarts, as well as this summer, to know that they weren't listening if they were running off their mouths. Beside him, he could see Ginny staring at her feet. He could tell that she longed to be up there too, flying and chasing after the quaffle.

"And besides, we don't have another broom," Fred said, with a tone of finality. "Well, except for Bill's old Shooting Star. But you could crawl faster than that thing can fly."

"She can share my broom," Harry says, to the other's surprise. "We can take turns playing."

Ron and the twins couldn't argue with that one. She wasn't interfering with their flying and they wouldn't have to share their brooms, so they couldn't really say no. And it was clear that Harry wasn't going to be persuaded to leave her behind. So they grumbled a bit and took off again into the air, chucking the old quaffle back and forth between them.

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes shining with something between thankfulness and admiration.

"Are you sure, Harry?" she asked, tentatively.

"Of course," he replied. "I know what it's like to be left out. I don't want you to feel that way. Do you want the first turn?"

Ginny nodded eagerly and took the broom he held out to her. He watched as she took of into the air, doing figure eights and racing around the perimeter of the paddock. She was clearly enjoying herself. And the astonished expressions on the faces of her brothers only seemed to make her smile wider. Harry watched as Fred levelled himself with his twin brother and said to him, "How did she learn to fly like that?"

* * *

"Harry, wake up!"

Harry groaned, trying to shrug his shoulder out from under whoever was shaking him. He had no idea what time it might be, but he could tell it was too early to be waking up. He reached up, trying to slap away whoever was trying to wake him.

"Come on, Harry, get up," Ginny said, shaking him harder.

"Fine, fine," he mumbled, rolling over so that he could face her. "Can I ask why we're getting up when it's still dark out?"

"Because I want go flying," she said, simply, heading towards the door. "Get changed and meet me downstairs in five minutes!"

"But it's still dark out!" he complained, not wanting to leave his warm, comfortable bed. "Can't we at least wait until the sun comes up?"

"No," she replied, stubbornly. "I want to go now. And besides, it's my birthday, so you're supposed to be nice to me."

Sticking out her tongue, she pulled the covers off of him, and pulled on his arm, dragging almost off the side of his bed. She was surprisingly strong for such a small girl.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Harry said, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and sitting up, rubbing his bleary eyes. Flying in the middle of the night wasn't exactly what he wanted to be doing, but he was willing if it would make Ginny happy.

Ginny let out a squeal of excitement. Right away, she clapped her hand over her mouth, and looked over to the other bed in the room, where Ron was snoring loudly. Harry wasn't sure exactly what she was worried about. They could have brought a full marching band playing at full volume into the room and Ron still wouldn't have woken up. After making sure that Ron wasn't going to wake up, she ran out of the room and down the stairs.

Harry got out of bed and pulled on a pair of old jeans and a crumpled shirt from the floor. He looked over at the clock. It wasn't even five in the morning! Far too early to be out of bed, and definitely too early to be out flying. But Ginny was his friend, so he would go.

Five minutes later, he found himself out in the field behind the Burrow, a gift-wrapped package in his hand, watching as Ginny took off on Fred's broom. He spent a few minutes just watching her. She always seemed happier and more relaxed when she was flying. As though, when she was in the air, nothing could hurt her and no one could say anything against her. It looked natural for her to be flying. He understood that. He felt the exact same way.

"Come on, Harry!" she yelled from twenty metres up.

"Wait!" he called back. "I have a present for you!"

Ginny let out another excited shriek. _'Maybe having her out in the fresh, night air isn't such a good idea,' _Harry mused. He may not have known Ginny for very long, but he had not known her to be the type of girl who shrieked a lot. But he was being proven wrong tonight.

She landed on the grass next to him, looking expectant. Not feeling awake enough to tease her, he held the present out to her. She jokingly held it up to her ear and shook it, as though she was trying to hear what was inside. He laughed, knowing that even if it did rattle a bit, she would never guess what it was.

But her curiosity got the best of her and she ripped of the paper. A beautiful green notebook and a couple of self-inking quills fell out into her hand.

"How did you know I needed a new diary?" she asked him, surprised.

He shrugged. "I don't know. When I went to town with Ron and the twins to buy birthday present for you, I saw that book in one of the shops and I immediately thought of you," he said, feeling a little bit silly.

She smiled. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "I love it." She carefully laid the book and the quills out of the way, but where she wouldn't forget them and kicked off on her broom again, shooting up into the sky. "Come on, Harry! Let's fly!"

He kicked off from the ground, enjoying the feeling of the cool, night air around him. He hadn't thought there would really be a difference, but he had to hand it to Ginny. Flying at night was definitely nicer than flying during the day.

They raced around the pitch, each trying to beat the other. They were evenly matched. He had the better broom, but she was smaller and lighter, which helped improve her speed. In the end, he let Ginny win. It was her birthday, after all.

They played catch with an old softball she had found at the edge of the field. He showed her some of the moves he had learned as a seeker during his last year at Hogwarts. They played tag, soaring over the trees that lined the property. They only came down when they sun started to rise over the horizon, signalling that the day was about to begin.

"I guess we should go back to bed," Ginny said, landing close to the house. "Mum doesn't know that I sometimes fly at night. And I'm not so sure I want her to."

Harry yawned as the pair made their way back up to their respective rooms. "Goodnight, Ginny," he said, as she turned into her room and he continued up the stairs.

"Good morning," she corrected with a smile. "And thank you for the notebook. I love it."

He made his way up to Ron's room, and climbed into his bed, not bothering to take off his clothes. It just wasn't worth the effort. Ron would only be shaking him awake in a little while anyway.

* * *

Ginny wasn't sure why she wasn't freaking out when they couldn't find Harry in Diagon Alley. She knew that she should have been. Her best friend (was it okay to call him that after only a few weeks?) was missing, no one knew where he had ended up or when he'd be back. But she had the strangest feeling that everything was okay and that there was nothing to worry about. Somehow, she knew that Harry was safe.

A moment later, she saw Harry, covered in soot but otherwise perfectly fine, walk up to them with Hagrid. As it had turned out, Harry had accidently ended up in Knockturn Alley, and it was only pure chance that Hagrid had been around to lead him back to where he was supposed to be. Despite knowing that Harry was safe, she couldn't help be feel relieved that he was back where she could see him.

"Don't you ever do that again," she said to him, once her mother had stopped worrying about him. She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"I'll try," he replied, looking a little embarrassed at the trouble he caused. "Guess who I saw in one of the shops in Knockturn Alley?"

Ginny looked at him expectantly. "Who?" she asked, when he didn't immediately tell her.

"Malfoy and his father," he said.

This meant nothing to Ginny. She had heard of the Malfoys before. Her father was none too fond of them. He always said they were dark wizards, big followers of You-Know-Who and liked to cause problems at the Ministry. But she had never met Mr. Malfoy or his son, so the only reason she was interested in this was because Harry seemed interested in it.

Unlike her, however, her father and brothers found this to be very interesting. They took what Harry said and went running with it, worrying about what they might have been doing there. They threw theories around, debating the likeliness of each. At least until her father caught sight of Hermione and her parents. Then he was too busy asking questions about muggle life to be interested in what the Malfoys may or may not be doing. Ginny couldn't help but laugh at her father's enthusiastic interest in the muggle world.

After a quick trip to Gringotts, the group split up. Her father offered to buy the Grangers a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, Percy and the twins went off in their own directions and Harry, Ron and Hermione wandered off down the street. Harry had offered that Ginny could come along with them if she liked, but her mother had said no. She needed robes and lots of other things for her first year.

An hour later, all the Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione met up in Flourish and Blotts bookstore. The store was packed. Apparently Gilderoy Lockheart, Mrs. Weasley's celebrity crush of sorts, was doing a book signing. The store was packed with middle aged witches vying for his attention.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to be good?" Harry asked her, as he was nearly knocked to the floor by an overeager witch trying to get closer.

And that's when the man spotting him. Immediately, he dragged Harry up to where he had been standing. Harry trying to grab at Ginny to keep from being pulled away, but his grip on her arm slipped. He was forced to pose with Lockheart and have his picture taken by the press. He was presented with the man's complete works, and sent back into the audience with a round of applause.

"Here," Harry said, dumping the books into Ginny's new, second-hand cauldron. "You take these." He paused a moment, then added, teasingly, "Even though you didn't save me from him."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "What did you want me to do?" she asked.

"I don't know!" he replied. "Anything that would have kept him from doing that."

"So you would have been okay with it if I had thrown myself at him, like that woman did before?" she said, keeping her expression serious.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, with a laugh. "Better you than me."

"Well, look at that! The youngest Weasley is proving herself to be the smartest one of the lot. She has the sense to shack up with Potter so she'll have a proper house to live in someday!"

Ginny knew as soon as she saw him that this had to be Draco Malfoy. And within ten seconds of being in his presence, she already hated him. Not just because she knew that Harry and her brother both hated him, either. He barely knew who she was, and already, he was insulting and her family. What a way to make a first impression.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry warned.

She had never heard Harry talk to anyone quite like that before.

"What's this, Potter?" the evil git said, a smirk crossing his ferret-like face. "Do you have a crush on the little Weasley? Don't you know she's just using you for your money?"

Ginny felt herself blush at Malfoy's words. She knew that it was probably a little bit obvious that she might have a small crush on Harry, but that didn't mean that she liked it being pointed out in public like that. And she did not like being accused of using someone for their money. She could not imagine being so shallow.

To her surprise, when she looked at Harry, he was blushing too. Was Malfoy right? Did Harry liked her as more than a friend?

Before she could spend too much time wondering, Ron had dove towards Malfoy, clearing intending to knock him senseless. Thankfully, Fred and George were close enough to catch him before he was able to do any damage. The last thing any of them needed was a fight to break out in Diagon Alley with a Malfoy.

"Come on, Ginny," Harry said, not taking his eyes off of Malfoy's smug expression. "Let's get out of here. I can get my books later."

* * *

Ginny sorted though her new school supplies, packing each thing neatly into her trunk. Many of her new things she wouldn't need until she arrived at Hogwarts, and she saw no point in leaving them sitting around her room until the last minute. They were just taking up space, and the mess was starting to get on her nerves.

She was sorting through her books, deciding which ones she might want to read before the summer was over. Some of her new textbooks looked really interesting, while others seemed to be a bit dull. Some, mainly the books by Gilderoy Lockheart, seemed completely ridiculous. She didn't see how it was possible for a single man to have done as much as this man claimed her had, let alone be arrogant enough to brag about all of in numerous books.

She picked up her transfiguration book, trying to decide which pile she would put it in. She found transfiguration an interesting subject, but she wasn't sure she wanted to tackle it just yet. That was when she noticed something lying on her floor. Tossing the book onto the bed, she picked up the strange object on the floor.

It was a diary, bound in black. She flipped through it and noticed that every single page was blank. On the back, in peeling letters, was 'T.M. Riddle'. This diary was not nearly as nice as the one Harry had given her. That one was nice, clean and pretty. This one looked like it had been used as a quaffle for the past fifty years and then left in a puddle.

She tossed the diary into her trunk anyway. You never knew when you might need some extra parchment or a new notebook.

* * *

Ginny was sitting with Harry down by the pond, watching as the sun set over the water. It was their last day of freedom before having to go to Hogwarts, and they were intent on enjoying as much of it as they possibly could. They had managed to escape the house, where everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to find all of their various possessions. They had headed out to the garden, where it was nice and quiet. The perfect place for a nice chat before bed.

"What if I end up in Slytherin, though?" Ginny asked.

She had spent most of her day asking similar questions. Though she hated to admit it, she was nervous about going to Hogwarts. She didn't really know what to expect, despite having read the book Percy gave her and hearing all about it from her brothers. There were too many things to think about, too many things that could go wrong. And what if she hated it when she got there?

"You won't if you don't want to," Harry replied.

"How do you know?" she asked, looking at him.

He refused to tell her how the sorting was done. He had said it would be better for it to be a surprise. She could see him struggling to figure out how to tell her without giving away anything.

"Because, when it comes down to it, if you really don't want to get placed somewhere, even if that's where it is decided that you would be best suited for, you won't get put there. If it gets brought up, just say that you don't want to be in Slytherin, and you won't be," he explained, appearing to confused himself as he went. When he noticed her looking at him, he added, "It worked for me."

That was good enough for Ginny, so she settled back down into the grass. At least until another thought struck her.

This particular thought had been on her mind for most of the summer. Often, she would find herself laying awake late into the night, wondering.

"Harry?" she said, after they had been quiet a few minutes.

"Yeah?" He replied, not looking up at her.

"What if no one likes me at Hogwarts?"

She had been wanting to ask that question for ages now. But who could she have asked? Her parents had to tell her that she would be fine and everyone would love her. That's what parents do. And she definitely couldn't ask her brothers. Percy would probably tell her to grow up, and the twins and Ron would have just laughed at her. She could have asked Bill, but it just wasn't the same when she had to write to him.

But she knew she could trust Harry. She didn't really know why; it was just a feeling she had. Though they'd only been friends for a few weeks, she already felt very close to him and found it easy to be near him and to talk to him. It was as though she had known him her entire life. She knew he wouldn't laugh at her question.

"Why wouldn't they like you?" he asked, as though he couldn't imagine anyone not liking her.

"I don't know," she mumbled, staring at her feet. "It's just a thought…"

"Everyone's going to love you," he said, the conviction strong in his voice.

"And if they don't?"

Harry shrugged. "Then you can always hang out with Ron, Hermione and me. I'll still be your friend when we get to Hogwarts."

Ginny smiled. It didn't really make her feel any better about the possibility of people not liking her at school, but it did help to know that she wouldn't have to worry about always being alone once she got there.

"Thank, Harry," she said, and she hugged him around the shoulders.

Hundreds of miles away, Albus Dumbledore looked on as Sybil Trelawney made a second prophesy.


	3. Chapter Three: Hogwarts

**Chapter Three: Hogwarts**

"Come on, Dad! I want to get a good compartment!"

Harry watched as Ginny tugged on her father's arm, urging him to move faster. She had been acting like that all morning. She had actually woken him up at quarter to six that morning, asking if he thought it was too early to head for King's Cross. At breakfast, she had bounced so much she had nearly knocked a full plate of toast off the table. He was surprised she hadn't managed to actually break anything yet.

Though at the quarter to six, he had said that it was definitely far too early to be going, he was starting to wonder if that might have been the better idea. They were running horribly late. They had been off to a good start, but things had quickly started to go down the drain. Between missing schoolbooks, explosions from the twin's bedroom and having to go back for forgotten possessions, they had made to the station with only a few minutes to spare.

Percy and the twins had raced though the barrier as soon as they had arrived on the platform, claiming they didn't want to get stuck sitting with a bunch of first years. Harry had seen Ginny's expression dampen a little when she heard that, but she seemed to get over it pretty quickly. She probably knew not to take it personally after living with them for so long.

Mr. Weasley turned to Harry and Ron. "I'm going to go through with your mother and Ginny, so we can make sure she gets a compartment somewhere. You two follow right behind us," he said. He glanced at the clock up on the wall. "And don't wait to long. You don't want to get left behind." Just before they disappeared beyond the barrier, Ginny spun around and mouthed _'meet me there_'.

Harry counted to thirty slowly. Surely that was enough time for them to get through the barrier and out of the way, so that he and Ron would be able to go through. Moving so that he had a clear path to the barrier, he started to jog towards the seemingly solid wall.

His trolley hit the wall with enough force to send his possessions flying in all directions, Hedwig hooting loudly in distaste. The barrier somehow managed to seal itself in that short amount of time. Ron, who had been right behind him, had crashed into his back, sending him flying as well.

He quickly gathered his scattered possessions, avoiding the muggle's curious stares and shaking his limbs to rid them of the jarring pain from colliding with the barrier. He had bigger things to worry about than what the muggles were thinking about the boy with the broomstick and the owl. Why weren't they able to get through the barrier?

"What the bloody hell?" Ron asked, picking himself up off the ground. He pushed against where the barrier was supposed to be, but the wall appeared to be as solid as... Well, as solid as brick was supposed to be.

Harry glanced up at the clock. It was exactly eleven. The train would be leaving now, and they were still stuck at King's Cross Station. He felt just a little panicked. He knew they would, eventually, get to Hogwarts. There was no way that anyone would leave them stranded in the muggle world when they were supposed to be at school. But he had promised Ginny that he would meet her on the train. Surely she would understand, given the circumstances.

"Maybe we should just go and wait for your parents by the car," he said, defeated. He wished he could just jump on his broom and catch up with the train and meet Ginny like he was supposed to. He hated to not be able to keep his word to her. But he didn't feel that the trouble he would get in for that was worth it.

"The car!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up and looking at him as though he was a genius. "That's it, Harry! We can fly to Hogwarts in the car. Dad installed an invisibility booster, so that you could fly it and not be seen by muggles. We can follow the train there."

It was perfect. They would be able to make it to Hogwarts, and probably would even make it in time to see Ginny be sorted. He knew she wouldn't be too happy if he missed that.

But at the same time, he had a bad feeling about the whole thing. More than likely, they would get in huge trouble for it. He knew it was probably the only way they would be able to get to the castle, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that was telling him not to do it.

'_Don't move, Harry. Mum and Dad noticed that you aren't here. They're talking to some man about opening the barrier. I don't know what happened. Please don't do anything stupid. I want you to be there when I'm sorted.'_

Harry quickly whipped around, trying to locate the source of the voice. He had heard Ginny's voice so clearly that he could have sworn she was standing right behind him. But she was on the train. There was no way she could have been able to talk to him.

"Come on, mate," Ron said, starting to push his trolley towards the car. "We'll never be able to find the train if we don't hurry up."

But Harry couldn't go. Not after he had just heard Ginny's voice telling him not to. He didn't know why, but he knew that she was right. He knew that it would all work out, though he couldn't for the live of him figure out why. After all, why would Ginny steer him wrong?

"No, wait," he said to Ron, who looked confused. "Your parents. They'll notice that they can't get back and that we aren't on the train." He definitely wasn't about to tell him that he was hearing voices. The last thing he needed was his best friend thinking he was some sort of lunatic, hearing voices that didn't exist. "They'll figure something out. We should just wait here."

Harry could see that his friend didn't like this new idea nearly as much. Ron pushed his trolley up against the wall, and sank down onto a nearby bench, defeated. He had probably thought that flying to Hogwarts in the old car would be exciting, and would have made for a fantastic start to a new year. And, of course, it would have been. But Harry hated the thought of getting in trouble before term had even started. And he couldn't deny Ginny, even if she was just a disembodied voice floating around in his head.

They waited. Five, ten, almost fifteen minutes. By that point, Harry was starting to wonder if they should have just flown the car to Hogwarts, disembodied voices be damned. It would have been better than sitting in the crowded train station with Ron, who was sulking just the slightest bit from being denied what would have been a really cool adventure. He was starting to worry that that he was never going to make it to school, and he was definitely going to miss Ginny's sorting. She was not going to be pleased with him.

He stood up. There was no point in them sitting there, waiting. They were wasting their time. They might well just grab the car now and get going, since they would need to find the train in order to actually make it to Hogwarts. They would probably get in a tonne of trouble for it, but it was better than being stuck in the muggle world for the whole semester. And besides, how else were they going to get to Hogwarts, even if they did wait until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came back? He was pretty sure that the train didn't run while school was in.

But just as he was about to open his mouth, he saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley come through the barrier. He immediately felt a sense of relief. Even if Ginny's voice hadn't been real, at least someone knew they weren't where they were supposed to be. At least someone was there to help them figure out how they were going to get to Hogwarts.

"Oh, Ron! Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed when she spotted them. She pulled her youngest son into a bone-crushing hug. "We were so worried. We didn't know what happened to you!"

"It's only been fifteen minutes," Ron mumbled, from his mother's embrace. "It's not like we've been missing for years."

"What happened?" Harry asked, when Mrs. Weasley had calmed down a little. "Why did the barrier close?"

Mr. Weasley ran a hand though his hair. "We aren't sure, really," he said, starting to gather the boy's things and return them to their respective trolleys. "We probably wouldn't have noticed at all, if Ginny hadn't noticed that you boys weren't around. She said you had promised to meet her in the compartment?" He glanced towards Harry, who nodded. "She was quite upset, and refused to do anything until we went back and checked the barrier. And, sure enough, when we got there, it had sealed itself. It took us almost fifteen minutes to find someone who was able to open the barrier again. They still don't know what sealed it in the first place." He paused a second, looking down at his watch. "You boys better hurry. They said they could only hold the train for a few minutes, and you don't want it to leave without you after all that."

A few minutes later found Harry and Ron lugging their huge, heavy trunks onto the train. As if it wasn't hard enough moving them when they were on solid ground, trying to navigate the narrow corridor of the train was almost impossible. And the curious stares they were receiving from the compartments they passed really weren't helping at all.

Finally, the found the compartment where Ginny was sitting (which also happened to be where Hermione was. It was convenient that they had met at Diagon Alley), and heaved their trunks onto the racks above them.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, before they had even had the chance to make themselves comfortable. She had clearly been worried about her friends.

Harry did his best to recount what had happened after Ginny and her parents had gone through the barrier, leaving out their debate whether or not to take the flying car and the fact that he had heard voices. He knew Hermione wouldn't approve of them even thinking about flying the car to Hogwarts (and, in all honesty, he didn't want to have to sit through the lecture he knew that she would give them for even considering the idea), and he just didn't want to get into hearing voices. Even in the wizarding world, he assumed it wasn't normal.

He didn't miss the pointed look that Ginny gave him. He assumed that she must have known something. Something about the voice, maybe? It would make sense that if he had heard her, maybe she could have heard him. He glanced quickly at the others in the compartment, shaking his head slightly, hoping she would interpret it to mean that they would talk later when they had a bit more privacy. She gave a slight nod, interpreting the gesture correctly, and pulled out a book to read.

The train ride passed quickly. After they had finished wondering why the barrier had closed itself, Hermione had dragged Ginny into a conversation about classes and books and the like, leaving Harry to challenge Ron to a game of chess.

* * *

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

They had been at Hogwarts for almost a week now. It had been a long week of getting lost, meeting new people and learning how to deal with a brand new level of freedom for Ginny, but she loved every single minute of it. In that short period of time, she already felt as though she was home. She understood now exactly how Harry felt about the castle. It was a very comforting place, even if a bit strange and unpredictable.

But there was something that she couldn't shake, no matter how much classes and everything else might distract her.

What had happened at the platform played over and over in her mind. It just didn't make sense. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone else, for fear of them thinking she might be losing her mind. She knew it sounded crazy, but she had been sure that she had heard Harry's voice after the barrier had closed.

Of course, she hadn't known at the time that the barrier wasn't open anymore, and she was too busy trying to find a compartment to think too much about where Harry and her brother had been. She had assumed that they got through fine, and they would come and find her later. She knew the boys could be silly sometimes, and didn't necessarily always do things as quickly as she would have liked. They would get their in their own time.

But then she had heard a voice. And not just any voice. Harry's voice. It couldn't have been real, because no one else seemed to have heard it and he wasn't anywhere nearby. A whisper of sorts in her head, she could hear him saying, _"Why has the barrier sealed itself? We're going to miss the train! I told Ginny I would meet her in the compartment."_ She hadn't really questioned it at the time. Harry and Ron were supposed to meet her on the train by that point, and they weren't there. She didn't believe that Harry would go back on his word and sit somewhere else, so she knew that something bad had to have happened. She had insisted her parents go back and check the barrier.

She knew that hearing voices wasn't normal, even for someone of magical blood. And she was pretty sure when you went crazy, you heard random voices and not that of someone you actually know. But then again, you never know. She tried not to focus too much on the thought of her being crazy.

"Sure," Harry said. He glanced around the common room. It was late, so only a few people were hanging about the room, and a few had crashed on the comfy couches nearest to the fire in a pile of their school work. Not the most private space, but he didn't worry that someone might be listening to their private conversation. "What's going on?"

Ginny sat down in a nearby armchair, biting her lip. How do you start a conversation like this? Just jump in and admit that you may just be crazy because you're hearing disembodied voices in your head? Or ease your way into it, and hope that the other person doesn't jump to conclusions?

What was she thinking? This was Harry, her best friend. Even if he thought she was crazy, he wouldn't make fun of her or judge her. He would try to get her help, probably. Just like a good friend should do. He would support her until she regained her sanity.

"That day, at the platform," she began, wondering how she was supposed to word this. Even if Harry wouldn't laugh at her, this wasn't the easiest situation to talk about. "Did anything weird happen for you? When you couldn't get though the platform?"

Not the best way to start the conversation, but the best way she could think of to begin getting her point across.

Harry frowned, and stared at his hands. "Yeah, kind of," he said, his voice a little strangled. "Why?"

'_Here goes nothing', _she thought.

"Well, that day, when I was on the train and you couldn't get on, it was almost as though I could hear you saying that something had happened and that you couldn't get through the barrier. It was so real, but you weren't there, so there was no way you could have actually said it." He was definitely going to think she was crazy now. "I sent Mum and Dad to check, because either way, you weren't on the barrier, and it turned out I – well, the voice – was right." She paused a second, biting her lip. She had to say it. "I sound crazy, don't I?"

Harry furrowed his brow and was quiet a second, clearly considering what she had said. When he didn't respond right away, she began to worry. He had to be thinking about carting her off to St. Mungo's now.

"I don't think you're crazy," he said, finally. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Or, if you are, I must be crazy too." He looked up at her. "I could have sworn that I had heard your voice that day. Telling me to stay where I was and not do anything stupid."

Ginny stared at him. There was no way this was possible. It was one thing to hear voices, but was it possible that they had actually communicated with their minds? She could remember thinking something along that line, and trying to direct the thought to wherever the voice had come from.

No, there was no way it was possible. It took really advanced magic in order to read someone's mind, and she wasn't even sure that it was possible for anyone, magic or otherwise, to actually communicate back and forth between two minds.

"Maybe we both just imagined it," she said, hoping this would make them both seem sane. "We were both waiting or looking for the other, and we did spend a lot of time together this summer. Maybe we're just so used to how each other talks and thinks that we could perfectly imagine what the other would say. It wasn't actually real, we just know each other a little too well, and imagined the whole thing."

Harry looked up at her and smiled, seeming to like this idea. She had to admit, it was the most appealing of the most likely possibilities.

"Makes sense, I suppose," he said, grinning at her teasingly. "I've spent so much time around you that even my imaginary you is nagging me."

* * *

Ginny hummed to herself as she dug through her trunk, trying to find the diary that Harry had given her for her birthday. She had put it in here after some of the other girls living in her dorm had been asking questions about it. She hadn't wanted them to get nosy and start reading it, so she had hid it at the bottom of her trunk, assuming no one would be bothered to shift through the mess she had left in there. Apparently, she had found a really good hiding place for it, as she was not able to find it herself.

She shifted a pile of notes from Charms that she had meant to sort, and gave a sigh of relief. She hadn't lost her diary after all! She vaguely remembered thinking that if she hid it under the notes, she would sort them before she started writing. Giving a glance to the notes, she decided to worry about them later.

She lay on her stomach on her bed and began to write, detailing what she had done that day, and about the secret passage way she had discovered on the sixth floor with her friend Victoire, a sweet-tempered girl who shared her dorm.

When she finished writing, her mind began to wander. She wasn't really in the mood to do homework, and it was still an hour before she was supposed to meet with Harry to go down to supper. She started sketching in her journal, but quickly realized that it was going to mess up her lovely, handwritten pages. She carefully tore the page out of the note book and tossed it into the mess of her trunk, making sure the binding had remained intact.

She tossed her diary back into her trunk and began searching for a spare piece of parchment she could draw on. She wasn't much of an artist, but it was something she enjoyed. It would easily kill the hour she had to wait to eat.

She didn't managed to find any parchment, but she did find a ratty, old notebook she vaguely remembered throwing in her stuff before leaving home. She couldn't remember if the book had an intended purpose when she had packed it, but considering the condition of the book, she doubted that it was good for anything other than spare parchment. Perfect, she realized, for mindless drawing.

She laid the book, along with her quill and ink down on her bed, and turned to check the time. She accidently bumped the bed a little too hard, knocking the open well of ink on it's side. She said a word her mother had told her never to say under her breath as the ink spilled over the notebook and her sheets. She quickly turned the well right side up and tried to keep the ink as much as possible on the notebook. The notebook she wasn't concerned about, but she didn't know how she was supposed to get the ink out of her sheets.

Much to her surprise, the ink that had been soaking into the notebook disappeared as she lifted it off the bed. She gasped in surprise. She had never seen that happen before, and living with the twins, she had seen a lot of spilled ink in her life.

Her stained sheets forgotten, she dipped her quill into what was left of the ink and drew a simple flower in the notebook. She watched as that, too, disappeared.

This was far too strange, and she had seen some peculiar items before. And idea struck her.

'_Hi,'_ she wrote. The whole thing gave her the slightest unnerving feeling, deep in the pit of her stomach, but her curiosity overpowered it.

She was shocked when the notebook actually wrote back to her.

'_Hi there,'_ it read. _'Who is this?'_

'_My name is Ginny'_, she wrote back. Something about this was wrong. _'Who is this?'_

'_Hello Ginny. My name is Tom Riddle.'_

This was all too weird. She slammed the notebook shut and quickly buried it at the bottom of her trunk. Notebooks weren't supposed to write back to you. They were supposed to hold your words and nothing more.

She pushed the thought of the talking journal out of her mind, and made her way down to the common room to wait for Harry. But the time he got down to the common room so that they could go to supper, she had herself almost completely convinced that she had imagined the whole thing.

* * *

Tom Riddle paced inside his prison. He resented being trapped in the diary, and he was getting restless after so many years of being stuck there. He longed to be free, to wander the world as he once had. But for that, he needed someone to allow him to escape. And opportunities like that didn't come along nearly as often as he would have liked.

He though he had almost had a chance a couple of weeks back. A young girl had stumbled across his diary and written to him. An accident, it appeared, since his world was first soaked in black ink. Curiosity must have gotten the best of her when she had noticed the ink disappear, since she had then drawn him a flower and wrote to him.

He had gotten excited, thinking this was finally his way to freedom. But it was no avail. She had written little more than her name.

Was that enough? He started to wonder. It wasn't much, he knew, and it would take a tremendous amount of power if he could pull this off. But the idea of freeing himself from the diary was far too tempting. He had to try. For all he knew, right now he was lost at the bottom of the girl's trunk or sent out to sea or who knows where else. He could destroy himself this way, but it was more than worth it to try.

* * *

Harry paced the common room, thankful that no one was in the common room due to the late hour. What he had heard in Lockheart's office played over and over in his mind, haunting him, not letting him fall asleep. _'Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…' _Rip who? Tear who? Most importantly, kill who? He shuddered, hoping that the voice was not talking about him or his friends.

And where had the voice been coming from? It had been one thing when he had heard Ginny's voice in his head. At least then, he knew the voice. It wasn't something his mind had created to make him crazy. Well, at least, that's what he was hoping. But either way, it was something he recognized and knew. A projection of sorts, he figured.

But this was something totally different, he was sure. Lockheart hadn't been able to hear it (not that it meant anything. That guy was batty if anyone was), and no one else seemed to be worrying like he was, so he figured no one else had noticed it either. He couldn't help but wish someone had heard it, if only so someone else was sharing his concern.

Where could the voice have been coming from? He was sure he hadn't imagined it. Despite everything, he was pretty sure his mind would never play a trick like that on him. But what could it have been that only he could hear?

He had told Ron about it, but Ron hadn't had any ideas as to what it could have been either. What he really needed was to talk to Hermione. Maybe she would have some ideas, or at least, know which book they should look in to try to find something.

The sound of a stair creaking behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He spun around quickly, wondering who could possibly be up at this hour. He was surprised to see a sleepy Ginny making her way down the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked her, curiously.

She shrugged and mumbled something nervously about 'bad dreams' and 'feeling anxious for some reason'. She collapsed down onto the couch nearest to where he stood and pulled a pillow to her chest, hugging it close. He had seen her do this before when she was nervous or upset. It seemed to be a way to calm herself down.

Harry frowned. This was different for Ginny. He hadn't known her all that long, and he would admit that, but he rarely ever saw her like this. She rarely seemed to let things get to her. Actually, the last time that he had seen her get like this was when she was worried about going to Hogwarts, and she hadn't even been this bad then. He felt the urge to hug her and replace the pillow in her arms, but ignored it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, quietly. He wasn't good at this. He didn't know how to talk to girls about feelings and stuff. He usually avoided them when stuff like this happened, because he was always scared of saying the wrong things and making everything worse.

Ginny shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak and quickly closed it again, as though thinking better of what she had been about to say, and shook her head again.

"Can you stay here with me for a while?" she asked, in a small voice. "I don't want to go back up there by myself."

Harry nodded and joined her on the couch. He sat awkwardly for a minute, unsure of what he was supposed to do about the upset girl beside him. This was exactly what he usually tried to avoid situations like this. After a moment, he placed his arms carefully around her shoulders and gave her a light hug, hoping that was the right thing to do at the moment.

Ginny jumped at first at his touch, but quickly relaxed into it. She curled onto her side, and buried her face in his chest. She started crying, and he tried to comfort her as best as he could. He rubbed her back like he had seen done before, hoping it was making a difference, and kept holding her tight. It was strange, but he liked the feeling of holding her in his arms. He liked the feeling that he might be able to protect her, which caught him by surprise. After a few minutes, she looked up from her spot on his chest.

"Harry, if I had done something bad," she started, nervously. "But it was something that I didn't do on purpose, would you be mad at me?"

He looked at her quizzically. "Like a mistake?" he inquired.

She shook her head. "Not a mistake." She struggled to find the words to describe what she was thinking. "More like something I didn't have control over. Would you be mad at me?"

Harry shook his head. "If it's not your fault, how could I be mad at you?"

Her mouth curled into a sad smile. "Okay," she said, burying her head back in his chest.

* * *

She couldn't believe what had happened. It didn't make any sense. But she knew it was her fault. She didn't know how. She couldn't remember having done anything, but she knew that none of this would have happened if not for her. Now, she just needed to figure out what exactly had happened, and what she was going to do about it.

The weird dreams hadn't gone away entirely, as she had hoped. It had looked good for a while, to a point where she had even been able to sleep normally, without being scared of what images her mind might produce. But then they had come back. This time, someone had gotten hurt.

She knew this could never have been her fault. Colin was her friend. They talked in class, did homework together on the weekends and played Gobstones when they got sick of doing homework. They had even sat together at the last Quidditch game, the one where Harry had gotten hurt (though, if she was being totally honest, she would admit that he had been very annoying that day, always talking about Harry and trying to take his picture as he was flying).

As she paced the floor of her empty dormitory, a sinking feeling hit her stomach. Whatever had happened to Colin had happened after she had gotten after him for talking constantly about Harry. It had gotten on her nerves and she had told him off. All she had wanted was for him to back off of her friend and let him have some peace. She had been upset, but she had not wanted to be malicious. But that night, he had been attacked by something.

It couldn't be her fault though. She was just an eleven-year-old girl! She didn't have the power to be able to properly perform any major spells, let alone one that almost kills a fellow student. She hadn't even had the chance yet to learn spells that could do harm. The most she could do was simple transfigurations and charms. She couldn't have hurt someone. It just wasn't possible.

She longed to talk to someone about it. Even if they couldn't suggest anything that would help, it would at least give her the chance to get it off her chest. But who could she talk to? Not her brothers, for sure. They would just talk to her Mum, another person she couldn't talk to, and they would just tell her she's being silly and to knock it off. She couldn't talk to any of her friends, because they wouldn't understand.

She could talk to Harry. He was her best friend after all. But, somewhere deep inside of her, she knew that she couldn't. She didn't know why, and she didn't understand the feeling. But she just knew that telling Harry what she had dreamed about was definitely not an option. She knew that telling him would mean something bad for him.

* * *

The days were beginning to drag, and Ginny was getting restless. Fall at Hogwarts was by far one of the prettiest things she had ever seen, but being stuck inside with homework each night was starting to get to her. She missed the days when fall was spent taking walks into town with her mum and helping to prepare the Burrow for the upcoming months of winter. She didn't like that fall now meant tests and essays and various other forms of academic torture.

It also didn't help that she couldn't get her mind off of her dreams. They had been horrible. She knew she was being silly; how could she be responsible for the things that were happening at Hogwarts? It was just a dream, after all. But it had shaken her enough to make falling asleep harder. Most nights she stayed up late reading to avoid the dreams that haunted her. This left her with dark circles under her eyes. Thankfully, her brothers and friends just attributed this to a lot of homework and didn't ask too many questions.

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts of her dream from her mind. It was bad enough that she often was up until the early hours of the morning thinking about it, she didn't want it to haunt her daylight hours as well.

She wrote another sentence on her essay for potions before throwing her quill down. She was tired of potions, and the essay wasn't due for another week anyway. She looked around the common room to see if anyone else was as restless as she was, but everyone seemed to be buried in her work. Even Victoire, who was rarely seen doing homework.

She spun around when she felt a tap on her shoulder. He smiled when she saw Harry standing behind her.

"Bored?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

She nodded in exasperation. "I hate potions," she said.

Harry laughed. She knew that he felt the same way about Snape's class as she did, if not more strongly.

"Want to go flying?" Harry asked, suddenly, after a moment of silence between the pair.

The idea of flying caused her to perk up. She hadn't had the chance to go out flying, or even consider the idea of going flying, since she had arrived to Hogwarts. There was too much work and too many people to talk to and hang out with to really think of other things.

Just as she was about to tell him that she would meet him down at the pitch soon, Hermione approached from behind him. Ginny didn't really have a problem with Hermione. She had gotten to know the girl quite well, as a result of her being good friends with both Harry and Ron. But sometimes she got on Ginny's nerves. She was too serious and sometimes Ginny found she looked at her like she was a little kid, which she didn't really appreciate. They were friends, but only because of having mutual friends.

"Harry, we need to do that thing tonight," she said, quickly, clearly having overheard what Harry and Ginny had been saying. She sent a glance at Ginny. "It has to be done in an hour, or we'll have to start over from scratch."

What were they talking about? Ginny couldn't help but wonder. She had thought that her and Harry had discussed everything.

He gave Ginny a guilty side-glace, and Ginny instantly realized that he was hiding whatever this was from her. She instantly felt irked. What were they doing that they figured she wasn't older enough to know, or would upset her too much or whatever their reason was?

Harry turned back to Hermione, and said, "Give me a few minutes, and I'll meet you down there." Hermione and Ron, who had just arrived, nodded and left the common room.

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Ginny grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the common room and into a nearby empty classroom. She closed he door tight behind them and turned to face him. She couldn't believe that her best friend would keep a secret from her. Her mind tried to rationalize that he may have been doing to protect her, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"What was that all about?" she demanded.

"Don't be upset," he said quickly. "But after what happened with Colin and what we heard Malfoy saying, we decided to see if we could figure out who the heir of Slytherin was." He glanced around the room, as if nervous that someone would overhear him. "We're making a Polyjuice Potion, and we're going to try to break into the Slytherin common room over Christmas and talk to Malfoy."

Ginny felt her jaw drop. She had heard of Polyjuice potion from her brother, and knew that it was very dangerous, not to mentioned extremely difficult to make. She couldn't believe that Harry and the other two would even try to do this. She didn't even want to imagine the complications if something went wrong with the potion.

"Harry, you can't!" she exclaimed. "It's too dangerous!"

Harry shook his head. "It's the only way we're going to be able to figure out if Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin," she said, calmly. "If it's him and we can get him to admit it, we can talk to Dumbledore and maybe the attacks will stop. We have to try Ginny."

Ginny couldn't believe this. She was scared for them, for what might happen to them. What if something had happened, and Harry got hurt? She couldn't imagine being at Hogwarts without her best friend. She had known that Harry had a tendency to find trouble wherever he went, but it was a whole other thing if he was going out and looking for trouble.

"Harry, please don't do this," she said, trying to keep her voice level. She didn't need to show him how much it scared her. "Polyjuice potion is bad. Bill told me all about it. People get stuck and can't change back. He said there used to be people who would never change back, or who would get stuck in an entirely different body."

"Ginny, we need to find this out…"

"No, you don't! Dumbledore and the other professors will figure this out."

"They'll never believe that a student…"

"Harry, please," she said, unable to hold back her tears now.

"Maybe Hermione was right," Harry said, looking irritated at this point. It was obvious that he didn't like the idea of someone telling him what to do, especially one of his friends. "You are too young to understand this. I shouldn't have told you. I just thought that you would understand, of all people. I thought you'd want to help stop innocent people getting hurt, but I guess you want to just let it go on until all the muggle-borns in Hogwarts are wiped out."

Ginny felt as though she had been punched. She had never told him that she felt as though she was responsible for the attack on Colin, but he had managed to hit her there hard. She looked up at the boy who had been her best friend since the summer. Her brothers had said horrible things to her before, but this was something completely different. Family was one thing, but your best friend was never supposed to hurt you.

She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her robe and made her way back to the common room. She collected the potions homework she had been working on earlier and took it up to her bed with her. She crawled beneath the covers, drew the curtains and started to cry.


	4. Chapter Four: The Chamber of Secrets

_Authors Note__: After a ridiculously long hiatus, I've decided to continue this story. Even though it hasn't been updated in ages, the plot has always been floating around in my mind, and I really want to see where I can take it. The first three chapters have been extensively edited (and I've added some small details to go with later plans), and I've played around with the plot I mapped out three years ago. I'm hoping to keep this going as long as I can, though I can't make promises once school starts again._

_With all that said, I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter (or the story, if you're new to it). Please bear with me on some parts, as I don't have a copy of CoS with me and was working off a timeline. I also skimmed a lot of that book because there aren't many changes. I just wanted to show some Ginny moments and their relationship building. After this, there will be more changes, and therefore I won't be going through a book in two chapters. I look forward to hearing your thoughts!_

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Chamber of Secrets**

Ginny paced the empty dormitory, wishing she had opted to go home for the Christmas holidays instead of remaining at Hogwarts. Classes had let out only a couple of days before, but she was already bored and very lonely. Her brothers were always off doing other things and most of her friends had gone home. She had already finished most of her homework and was running out of things to do. At the rate she was going, she was going to go stir crazy before classes began again.

More than anything, she wished she were still talking to Harry. As much as she hated to admit it after he had been so mean to her, she missed him terribly. He was her best friend after all. She had hung around with Hermione a little bit, but she found the older girl irritating after a while. She wanted to be exploring the castle and flying with someone, not sitting in the library while someone lectured her about homework.

At first, she had been so upset that they would do something so dangerous, she hadn't wanted to speak to Harry anyway. She couldn't imagine what he had possibly been thinking when he had agreed to make such a dangerous potion. He could get hurt. It wasn't up to them to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was anyway. That was a job that should have been left for the professors. Given time, they would figure it out and everything would be set right.

She had also been so shocked at what he had said to her, she couldn't imagine wanting to talk to him. She had an idea that Hermione wasn't too fond of their relationship at times, so she wasn't surprised at the revelation that Hermione looked down on her. But Harry was her best friend, and best friends weren't supposed to treat each other like that. He was supposed to stand up for her, and be understanding to her point of view. He wasn't supposed to get angry and run off, complaining that she was too little to understand what was going on.

But she found she couldn't be mad at Harry for long. It wasn't that she wanted to stop being mad, she just couldn't. It felt as though being mad at him was wrong somehow, and that things needed to be put right as soon as possible. Every time she saw him, she felt compelled to talk to him and reconcile their differences, even if she knew they would never agree.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized the part of her that wanted to make things right may have a good point. She had to admit that, in their searching for the heir of Slytherin, they might find out that she probably had something to do with it. That scared her more than anything. If he knew that she might have something to do with what was happening to students at Hogwarts, he would never want to be her friend.

She didn't know how to make things right. She couldn't apologize when she hadn't done anything wrong. He was the one who had said all of the horrible things, so he should really be the one to apologize. She wanted to just go up to him and start talking to see what would happen, but she was afraid that he would still be angry with her for not supporting them. She really wanted to just talk to him and stop avoiding him, which had been better than the awkward silences that occurred every time they were in the same space.

She sat down on her bed and pulled a Transfiguration essay in front of her, staring at it for a few minutes. It was the last of the holiday homework she had been assigned before the beginning of the break. She could remember watching her brothers when she was younger as they would scramble to finish all their holiday homework on the last day before they returned to Hogwarts. She wondered what she was going to do once this essay was finished, and she didn't have any homework to distract her.

She put the essay to the side, not wanting to finish it just incase she would need the distraction of finishing it sometime before the long break was over. But that put her right back where she started: bored.

She dug in her trunk. Maybe some mindless sketching would pass the time. It was one of the things she had missed in the months leading up to the break. She still found a bit of time every week to sit and draw, but not nearly as much as she had before she had started Hogwarts. And besides, drawing always made her feel better, and she could definitely use that right now.

She managed to wrestle up a tattered, old diary from underneath her schoolbooks. She vaguely remembered the diary having significance in the past, but she couldn't think of what it might have been. It must not have been anything too important though, if she wasn't able to remember it.

She flipped the book open and sketched a tiny flower in the top corner of the page. A rose, her mum's favourite flower. She missed her mum, and really wished she had decided to go home for the break instead of staying at Hogwarts. But, at the time the decision was made, she had still been on good terms with Harry. She hadn't expected them to get into a fight, and by that point, her parents had other plans for the holidays and it was too late to change her mind.

Her eyes widened as the flower disappeared into the page. Of course! This was the notebook that wrote back to her! That's what had been so significant about the notebook.

She still had a bad feeling in her stomach about the whole thing. Her father had always told her never to trust anything if she couldn't see where it kept it's brain. Surely there was nothing good about this diary. But on the other hand, it was just a diary. A novelty item, perhaps. Or one of the charmed objects that her dad often dealt with at the Ministry of Magic. Something to confuse muggles and entertain wizards and witches.

Besides, how could a diary be a dangerous object? What was it going to do? Tell her scary stories and give her nightmares? She didn't need a diary to do that. She had strange nightmares all on her own.

'_That was a very nice flower_,' the diary wrote back to her when she wasn't paying attention.

She smiled, and wrote back, _'Thanks. Do you remember me? Ginny?'_

'_Of course I remember you, Ginny. It has been quite some time since you wrote. Busy with school?'_

It wasn't the same as talking to a real person. A diary couldn't give you a hug and tell you everything was going to be fine, and then take you out flying. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and she was willing to accept company in whatever form it came in.

* * *

"Harry, why don't you just go and apologize?"

Ron glared at him from across the chessboard, clearly becoming frustrated with his friend. They had been having the same argument for a few weeks now, and it was clear that the whole thing was beginning to get on his best friend's nerves.

He couldn't blame Ron for being frustrated though. He hadn't been the greatest friend lately. He missed Ginny so much it almost hurt. He hated ignoring her in the common room and the Great Hall, and he really hated the sad looks she gave him. He missed talking to her in the evenings in front of the fire and going for walks around the grounds when they had both lost interest in their homework. He missed his best friend, and he wasn't sure how to make things right again.

He knew he could just go up to Ginny and apologize, as Ron had suggested. But he wasn't so sure that this would be enough for Ginny. He hadn't meant what he said. He was just frustrated, and the words had just come out without him intending to let them. Making the Polyjuice Potion was a surefire way of finding out if Malfoy really was the heir of Slytherin. He couldn't understand, at the time, why she couldn't see it that way as well.

It wasn't until a few days later that he realized what must have been going through her mind. Of course it was dangerous, and a bad idea. If he weren't so determined to prove that Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin and not him, he probably would have agreed with her wholeheartedly. Why on Earth would he go looking for trouble when trouble seemed to always be waiting around the corner for him?

But he needed to know. He hated walking around the school and having everyone avoid him, or give him looks of disgust. It had been going on for too long for his liking, since the whole fiasco in the dueling club. He could not have been more thankful that the holidays had started so early. It certainly cut back on the number of people who could potentially be mad at him for petrifying Justin, Colin, Nick and Mrs. Norris.

While he did agree with her about the danger of what they were doing, he couldn't understand why Ginny couldn't see it his way as well. How could she miss the way people looked at him? Sure, all of that hadn't been going on when the whole thing started a few weeks before, but she had to have noticed it now. They were supposed to be friends after all.

Harry shrugged, realizing that he had never actually answered Ron as a result of being too caught up with his own thoughts. He looked down at the chessboard and made a move at random, knowing there was no way he could beat Ron at the game anyway. Sure enough, Ron studied the board for a moment, and then made a move that left Harry's king out in the open. The game was over in less than two minutes.

"Play again?" Ron asked, clearly having moved on from his frustration. Harry nodded in response. It was better than working on the mountain of homework that the professors had assigned them for the break.

Maybe Ginny hadn't said anything to him because she was waiting for him to apologize, Harry realized as he moved his first pawn. It would make sense. He had been the one who had hurt her and started the whole thing. He had been the one who had hit below the belt and stepped out of line. He mentally kicked himself for being such a prat.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said, stranding up abruptly. "I have to go talk to your sister. You wouldn't know where she is, would you?"

Ron shrugged, looking a little torn between losing his chess partner and feeling relieved that his friend and sister were going to reconcile. "She said something about going to the library. You could try there." Harry nodded in response and made his way out of the common room.

Ron watched as his friend left, before turning to Hermione, who had been sitting quietly with them working on some essay. He had noticed that she had been unusually quiet when the subject of Ginny came up, which wasn't like her. Usually, she interjected her opinion whether you wanted to hear it or not. He mentally shrugged, figuring it was just because she and Ginny didn't really talk that much. Girls were weird anyway. He didn't try to understand them.

"About time those two made up," he said, resetting the chessboard to play against himself. Hermione gave a quick nod, not looking up. Ron didn't catch the frown that briefly crossed her face.

Ginny sat by herself in the quiet, empty library, reading a fictional novel she had dug up in a far corner of the stacks. It was clear that students at Hogwarts rarely read for fun, because their selection of fictional stories was small and almost impossible to find without the help of a librarian. But Ginny had been bored, and with so much time to fill over the course of the break, she thought having some good books to read might help her pass the time.

It was a very good story so far. Interesting characters, a good story and a bit of comedy thrown in for good measure. The perfect way to spend a chilly afternoon. If Madame Pince would allow her to have a cup of tea in the library with her, she would probably have no reason to leave for the rest of the day. But, rules being as they were, she would eventually have to leave for supper.

She was so focused on her book, she didn't even noticed the boy who used to be her best friend spend almost five minutes watching her. He was probably relieved she hadn't noticed him, since he had spent almost all that time whispering to himself, going over what he was going to say when he finally approached her.

She jumped and spun around when she heard the shuffle of feet approaching behind her. She hadn't expected anyone to be in the library, considering the small number of students that had decided to stay for the holidays. She was even more surprised when she realized it was Harry. She had assumed that he still wasn't talking to her.

Automatically, she felt herself flush and buried her nose back into her book. She really didn't want to hear how she had been out of line and that no one else was going to figure out the Chamber of Secrets situation if they didn't. She just was not in the mood for that today. She just wanted to get back to her book and not think about any of it. She didn't want to be reminded that her best friend hated her.

"Ginny, can I talk to you?" he said in a quiet voice. Had she imagined it, or did he sound a little bit uncertain?

She somehow knew he hadn't come here to yell at her, and she felt herself nod. Harry hesitated and took the seat next to her. He wrung his hands and stared at the table, silent for close to a minute. Ginny, on the other hand, was curiously watching the older boy, wondering to what could possibly be going on in his head. She had been convinced that he hated her. Why else would he have avoided her for so long?

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said, finally. "I didn't mean to say those things. I was just upset, because I thought you would be as interested in doing it as Ron and Hermione were. I thought you'd like it too, or maybe want to come along. I didn't think that you would try to talk me out of it. Usually it's professors that want to stop us breaking the rules, not our friends (well, Hermione used to, but not so much now). You're right, though, and I'm sorry for all the horrible things I said."

The whole time he spoke, Harry stumbled over his words and it was almost as if some parts had to be forced out. But Ginny, having grown up with six older brothers, knew that apologizing wasn't something that came easily to boys. She appreciated the effort he made to make things right. And, if she was being perfectly honest, she didn't care how awkward his apology was; she was just excited to have her friend talking to her again.

She threw her arms around the older boy, and she could feel his cheeks grow warm under her own. She knew what he was probably thinking. He was probably wondering if there was anyone who could see them, and what they were thinking of this hug. But she didn't care. She didn't care that he was concerned, or what anyone else might be thinking.

All she cared was that she had her friend back.

* * *

Ginny collapsed on her bed and pull the diary out in front of her. In the time she and Harry hadn't been talking, her and the boy in the diary had become fairly good friends. He listened to her as she told him about her friends and everything that was going on at Hogwarts. She had even told him about Harry, Ron and Hermione trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin was, and the consequences for Hermione.

He, on the other hand, was a bit more secretive. He said, mostly, that he was just an image of sorts and that he didn't know much about what was going on in the world. He just knew his memories, and stuff that had happened before he had gotten stuck in the journal. He said he preferred to hear about Ginny and her life. His stories were rather boring, and he preferred to listen to hers.

She had managed to convince him to tell her some of his stories though. He told her of pranks he and his friends had pulled off, and stories from some of the classes he had taken. He was always quick to push her back into talking about herself. She found herself revealing more than she had intended to him. But it was just a silly diary, right? She couldn't possibly have anything to worry about.

* * *

On Christmas morning, Ginny woke to the sounds of laughter coming from the common room. She rolled over in bed, not ready to give up the warmth of her bed just yet. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to doze off again and sleep a little longer. She had been having a wonderful dream, and she really wanted to continue it.

Just as she was about to fall back to sleep, a voice called to her from downstairs. "Ginny! It's Christmas! You're supposed to spend it with your family! Get your behind out of bed and down here with your brothers!"

The twins always seemed to have the best timing. She sighed and threw off her blankets. She knew they meant well, she just wished they would let her sleep a little longer.

She quickly got dressed and made herself look presentable. The more she woke up, the more excited she became to see what her family and friends might have got her, and to see the faces of her brothers when they opened their gifts. She had spent a lot of time thinking of her gifts this year, and she was sure that everyone was going to love them. She was especially excited to see Harry open his present. It was the only one she wasn't sure about. She was pretty sure he was going to like it, but hoped it would show how happy she was to have him back in her life without being too cheesy.

It was clear that Fred and George had made everyone wait to open presents until she had arrived. Ron was sitting on one of the couches, alternating between staring longingly at the gifts and glaring at them. She smiled. Though they sometimes had funny ways of showing it, it was always nice when her brothers showed how much they cared for her. And when it bothered another of their siblings, it was that much better for all of them.

She ran and landed hard on the floor. She ignored the pain in her behind and started handing out presents to her brothers, Harry and Hermione. She wasn't sure when she had took on the role of the muggle Santa Claus, but it had been her responsibility to hand out the gifts for as long as she could remember. She didn't hand out her present for Harry, though. She didn't want the others to see it and make fun of her for it.

The room filled with shouts of thanks and surprise and the sound of paper ripping. Everyone seemed to be pleased with their gifts, and was pulling their new jumpers over their heads. Ginny was pleased with the gifts she had received. In addition to the usual jumper, sweets and novels from her parents, she had received a large selection of chocolate from Ron, Zonko's products from the twins, a dull-looking volume on the history of transfiguration from Percy and a book on flying from Hermione. Her favourite gift was a combined one from Bill and Charlie though. They had sent her a miniature dragon figurine that moved and breathed real fire, and a small, gold locket on a chain.

She didn't spent to long wondering why there wasn't a gift from Harry. She had to admit she was a little disappointed, but she couldn't say that she was really surprised. They had only started speaking again a week ago, and it was possible that he hadn't managed to get a present for her in that time. They had gone a long time without speaking. She decided not to be disappointed. She had her friend back, and that was a good enough present.

They spent some time hanging around the common room, spending time together. They roasted marshmallows by the fire and tried out the new chess set that Ron had received. Ginny was happy to spend time with her brothers. They didn't get to spend time together as a family very often because of being busy with school.

As lunch approached, everyone started heading off on their own, either to get something to eat or to try out their new Christmas presents. Ginny found herself sitting alone in the common room with Harry. It could not have worked out better if she had planned it. This was the perfect opportunity to give him his present without any funny looks from her brothers or friends.

Before she could say anything, Harry said, "I'm sorry I didn't put your gift with the others." He shifted awkwardly, as though he was a bit nervous. "I didn't want your brothers to ask questions."

She frowned. What could he have possibly gotten her that her brother's wouldn't approve of? He handed the small, wrapped box to her, and she pulled the paper off. She opened the box to reveal a tiny heart charm on a necklace. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"Hermione helped me pick it out," he said, quickly. "I was just going to get you chocolate for Christmas. But after I was such a prat, I thought I should get you something better. Hermione said a necklace might be a good idea." He hesitated and glanced at her nervously. She could tell that he was a bit embarrassed that he had to ask for help with a present for his friend. "Do you like it?"

She set the necklace down on the table in front of her and launched herself at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love it!" she cried, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much. Can you put it on?"

She pulled her hair out of the way and, after a couple of moments fumbling with the tiny clasp, he managed to close the clasp. She couldn't believe he had gotten her such a lovely gift, despite everything that had happened in the past month. But her face fell as she thought about her gift for him. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now it seemed like too little. She would have gotten him something more if she had known what he was going to get for her.

"What is it?" he asked, noticing her expression change.

"My gift seems silly now," she said, picking up his gift. "It's not nearly as nice as this."

She handed it to him, and he smiled. Pulling off the paper, he revealed a charm in the size and shape of a galleon. One side showed a dragon in flight, and the other a strange shape involving a triangle and circle.

"It has a protection charm on it," she said, her face burning. "It's supposed to help ward off trouble and keep you safe." She glanced down at her hands. "It seemed like a good idea."

"Thank you, Ginny," he said, giving her a hug. She breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't seem to hate the gift, and he definitely didn't seem upset that she thought he might need a little extra protection. "This will definitely come in handy with how often trouble seems to find me." He slipped the charm into his pocket. "Want to go grab something to eat?"

* * *

A lot had happened since everyone had returned from Christmas break. Hermione had been turned into a cat by the polyjuice potion, and the panic around the school was only gotten worse despite no recent attacks. The entire school had become convinced Harry was the heir of Slytherin, and the trio had not been able to prove it was Malfoy.

For Ginny, the time had passed quietly. She was still having strange dreams, and occasionally would lose track of time and not be able to remember what had happened. But the nightmares had eased off since Christmas and those periods of time did not occur nearly as frequently. She had a feeling that having her friend back had something to do with it.

Now Valentine's Day was upon them, and it seemed like Lockhart was determined to torment them as much as he possibly could. The entire Great Hall had been decorated, and little cupids were delivering valentines. It turned out to be quite a laugh, watching the cupids hunt down their victims and deliver the unwanted messages. It had all turned sour when a singing valentine had been delivered to Harry and made to look like it had come from Ginny.

"Looks like Potter didn't like your Valentine, Weasley," Malfoy said, after the song had been delivered.

She felt her face turn bright red, even though she hadn't been the one to send the valentine. She knew better than to send him something that would make a spectacle out of him. And beside, she could have come up with something much more creative than comparing his eyes to a fresh pickled toad. Emeralds maybe, or the grass at the Burrow in the sunlight, but definitely not a toad. She suspected the twins might have had something to do with it.

"Please tell me that wasn't from you," Harry asked later, when they were walking back from dinner.

She couldn't help but laugh. "It definitely wasn't from me. I could have come up with something way better than that," she told him, laughing at the memory. Now that the whole thing was over, it was far easier to laugh about it.

He gave a sigh of relief, and then frowned. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a dramatic change in expression, especially since they were talking about a Valentine's Day song.

"What is it?" she asked.

He hesitated a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "Ginny, was I supposed to get you something for Valentine's Day?" he asked, finally.

She smiled. With everything that was going on, her silly friend was worried that he had not gotten her anything for Valentine's Day. If she had been in his position, she couldn't imagine being focused on anything else. She could even be incredibly self-centered at times just because of her strange dreams and blackouts. But Harry was always concerned about everyone else as much as he was with his own problems.

"You don't have to get me anything," she told him, still smiling. "Valentine's Day is a bit of a silly holiday anyway, and Lockhart's thing didn't make it any less silly. I just like spending time with you. That's enough for me."

The relief on his face was obvious. "I should have gotten you a singing Valentine," he said, barely able to keep from laughing. "Then I wouldn't have had to suffer alone."

"You wouldn't," she said, pretending to be offending. She knew he would never to such a thing. He knew she hated to be the centre of attention unless it was necessary.

"I may keep it in mind for next year," he said, smirking. They reached the common room entrance, and he moved to let her go in before him. "Want to play a game of chess? I don't feel like working on that potions essay right now."

They set up Ron's old board near the fire. Neither was particularly strong at chess, so they were equally matched. Both would make mistakes that would give the other advantage, so their games tended to end quickly. After a half dozen games, they had both won half and were starting to yawn.

"I think I've had all the chess I can take for the night," Harry said, stretching his stiff arms. They had been sitting for far too long.

"Me too," Ginny replied. She stood up, as he started to put the game away. It was far later than she had intended to stay up, and she was starting to feel very sleepy. "I think I'm going to head up to bed."

She moved around the table so she was next to him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Harry," she said, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before heading up to her dormitory.

She didn't stick around long enough to see Harry put his hand up to the place where she had kissed him and smile.

* * *

One particular Sunday evening, she was sitting in the common room, working on a History of Magic essay. It was dull work, but she really just wanted to get it over with, so she wouldn't have to think about goblin wars until finals. She would have preferred to be flying, but it was far too cold, and she didn't have a broom to use anyway. She made a mental note to ask her parents for one for her birthday.

Midway through her second last paragraph, she was interrupted by Harry running down from the boys dormitory and approaching where she was sitting.

"Hey, Gin," he said, slightly out of breath. "Can I show you something?"

She nodded and quickly packed up her essay. Her mind raced with ideas of what he might want to show her. She followed him up to the boy's dormitory and sat down on his bed. Harry quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was in the room, and pulled something out of his trunk. She pushed herself up to get a better view of what he was holding.

Her heart sunk and she instantly felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to scream. She had thought she had managed to get rid of that horrid thing weeks ago. She had intended to damage it beyond repair, so that she would never have to worry about it again. But here it was, sitting in the hands of her best friend.

"I found this in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he said, tossing the book down on the bed next to her. She fought the urge to recoil and get as far away from Tom Riddle's diary as she could. "I don't know how it got in there. Myrtle said someone had thrown it at her. Watch what happens when you write in it."

Ginny wanted to scream and rip the quill from his hands. But she forced herself to sit there and watch as he dipped the quill in ink and wrote on the page. The ink disappeared, and text quickly followed. _'Hello Harry. It is good to hear from you again,'_ the book replied.

She felt him watching her for a reaction. She forced her face to stay as calm as possible. "How…How does it know your name?" she asked, quietly, her voice not nearly as calm as she would have liked.

"I've written in it before," he said, frowning. "It asked the first time I wrote. The book said it used to belong to someone named Tom Riddle, who used to go to Hogwarts."

She wanted to tell him that the diary was bad, but she couldn't find the words. Though she didn't know how, she knew that this diary had something to do with her nightmares and blackouts. Tom had shown up in her nightmares before, and she knew he had something to do with it.

But if she told Harry all of this, she would also have to tell him about her fears that she was the one causing all of the bad things that were happening at Hogwarts. He would want her to go to Professor Dumbledore about it, and she couldn't imagine how much trouble she would get in for all of the problems she was causing. It wasn't going to matter to them that she didn't mean for any of it to happen. The evidence of her guilt was there: the sheets stained with blood that she had hidden in her trunk, the fact that she was the last person seen with Colin the night he was attacked.

She wanted to cry. She didn't know what she was going to do.

"I… I don't think… I don't think you should write in that anymore," she said, fighting to keep her voice level. Judging by the funny looks that Harry was giving her, she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding how she was feeling. "It could be really dangerous. You don't know why it's writing to you, and you don't know who created it."

He nodded. "It told me that Hagrid was the one who had let the creature loose on the students fifty years ago. He was keeping it as a pet. It didn't make sense. Hagrid likes his dangerous creatures, but he would never let one of them hurt someone." He glanced down at the diary on his bed, and then at Ginny. His face softened, appearing to know the distress she was experiencing despite the fact she was keeping her face stone straight. "I'm not going to write in it anymore."

He picked up the diary and placed it back in his trunk under a pile of books. He turned back to her and gave her a funny look.

"Are you okay, Gin?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, making herself believe that it was true. He wasn't going to write in the diary again, so there was nothing to worry about, right? "I'm okay," she replied, starting to move towards the stairs to the common room. "Just a little tired. I think I'm going to lay down for a bit."

As soon as she was out of Harry's sight, she raced towards her own dormitory, knocking over a game of Gobstones on the way. She ran into the bathroom and heaved into the toilet. She couldn't believe that he had the diary. She wanted to tell him, but she just couldn't.

She thought she had only closed her eyes for a second, but when she opened them again, she found herself lying on her bed, the curtains drawn around her. Instantly she was filled with fear. She hadn't blacked out in weeks, and she was terrified at the thought of it starting up again.

She looked around. She hadn't noticed the sun setting, or the other girls in her dorm going to bed. She had no idea how much time had passed since she had been in the bathroom. Glancing at her watch told her it was after midnight, though she didn't know if it was even the same day.

Her stomach sunk when she noticed Tom Riddle's diary sitting on her bed. She must have stolen it from Harry's trunk while she was blacked out. As much as she would have liked to get the diary as far away from her as possible, she couldn't allow it to fall into Harry's hands again. Tom had been particularly interest in him for some reason, and she couldn't allow him to find out even more.

She placed the diary in her own trunk, burying it deep beneath books and old sheets of parchment. She could only hope that she would forget about it, and that Tom would forget about her and Harry.

* * *

Despite the late hour, Harry sat awake in his bed. His mind was racing far too much for sleep to be a possibility. He had returned to his dormitory earlier that night to find his things strewn everyone, and Tom Riddle's diary missing. He had no idea who would have possibly wanted the book or why they would be willing to go through his trunk to find it. Clearly someone had really wanted that book.

But that wasn't the only thing that was troubling him. His conversation the day before with Ginny was on his mind. When he had been talking to her, she had seemed her usual calm self. She had appeared a little thrown off when the diary had responded to his writing, but nothing really seemed different about her.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was really wrong. Despite her calm exterior, he had a strong gut feeling that she had been terrified and anxious when he had bought out the diary. Though he couldn't explain it, he knew that something was wrong with her that she wasn't telling him about.

He had asked if she was all right, and she had said she was. But he couldn't shake the conviction he had that something was off about his friend. It reminded him of what had happened on the train, when he had heard her voice even though she was nowhere near him. He couldn't help but wonder if this was the same sort of thing. And if that was the case, why was it happening?

* * *

Harry was exhausted by the time Wood finally called off Quidditch practice. The game against Hufflepuff was still weeks away, but Wood was determined to win. His team was exhausted with the extra practices he was adding, but he didn't seem to notice. He kept working them until they were practically falling off their brooms. He finally decided to let them go when the sun began to set.

Despite how tired he was, he didn't feel like going back to the Gryffindor common room just yet. There was a pile of homework waiting for him and he wasn't in the mood to begin tackling that yet. And with his luck, Hermione would be waiting for him to come back and force him to deal with it.

"Hello Harry," he heard a voice say from behind him. He spun around quickly, noticing Ginny approaching him. He hadn't expected her to be down by the pitch. It was rather chilly, and it would have been much nicer to be sitting in front of the fire.

"Hi, Gin," he replied. "What are you doing down here?"

She shrugged. He was hit by a pang of sadness that was not his own. He furrowed his brow, unsure of where that feeling had come from. This had happened a couple of times before, but only when he was around Ginny. It was a strange sensation, and he wasn't sure why he found himself experiencing it. The only logical thing he could think of to explain it was that he was experiencing what she was feeling. But that really didn't make sense either.

She seemed to notice his expression, and he quickly changed it to a smile. He didn't want her to think he was crazy or anything.

"I needed a break from homework," she said, not looking up at him. Something was definitely wrong with his friend. He wished he knew what it was so that he could help her. He hated to see her upset. "I was watching your practice. Wood's not taking it easy on you, is he?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I don't mind so much. It's better than doing homework."

She nodded, and glanced around the empty pitch. He couldn't help but wish he could think of something to make her smile. He looked down at his broom and got an idea.

"I'll be right back. Don't move," he told her, as he took off towards the school. He raced to the nearest broom cupboard and grabbed an old school broom before racing back down to the Quidditch pitch.

"Want… Want to fly with me?" he asked, panting from his run.

If Quidditch practice hadn't done him in, then it was very possible the run had. But as soon as he saw how Ginny's face had brightened, he forgot about how tired he was. He quickly handed her his Nimbus 2000, and mounted the school broom. He knew that she liked being able to go faster than the old brooms would allow.

She took off quickly, looping the pitch before flying back to where he was only getting his feet off the ground. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet and taunting. "Can't catch me, Potter?"

She took off, and he followed behind. She had the faster broom, but he was easily the better flier. They were evenly matched in their game of tag.

They flew for the better part of an hour, until the magical lighting around the pitch had come on for them and they were exhausted. Neither could remember the last time they had enjoyed themselves so much. Harry knew that Ginny had been having a hard time lately, though she refused to talk to him about it, and he had been so busy with trying to figure out what was going on with the muggleborns being petrified. It was nice for the two of them to just let go and have fun for a change.

They landed and Ginny handed his broom back to him, still smiling. He couldn't help but notice how much happier his friend looked compared to the last few times he had seen her. Apparently, flying was just the thing she needed. He made a mental note to talk her out flying more often. If that were all it took to make her happy, he would gladly do it.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, giving him a quick hug. "I think I really needed that." She shivered. With the falling night had come a bitter cold. "Do you want to go get a cup of cocoa from the kitchens? Fred and George showed me where it was, and the house elves are fun to visit."

He nodded and followed her back towards the school. He couldn't help but wish that she would tell him what was going on so that he could help her. He hated seeing his best friend so sad all the time. He made a vow to figure out what was going on with her, and help her through it any way he could.

* * *

Ginny had been shocked when Harry had revealed that it was a basilisk that was attacking the muggleborn students. It had been Hermione that had figured it out, and had been petrified while using a mirror to look around corners. Harry had pulled her aside and told her earlier that day, and she had been horrified every since. Harry had been concerned about her (she had felt it herself, in a way she couldn't explain), but she couldn't tell him what was wrong. She had run away like a little girl.

She had been using a basilisk to hurt the muggleborn students at Hogwarts. She felt sick to her stomach, not that there was anything there she could have thrown up. She no longer felt like herself. She couldn't eat, couldn't focus on homework, and she was barely sleeping because she was constantly terrified that if she fell asleep, something bad was going to happen. She didn't want to hurt anyone else. She just wanted all of this to end.

She dug the notebook out of her trunk. She needed to know why this was happening.

'_Why are you making me do this, Tom?'_

'_Because it is necessary, Ginny. Hogwarts should be for those of pure blood only.'_

'_I don't want to be a part of this anymore. Find someone else to do your dirty work.'_

'_I told you this could end. I told you that if you give me Harry Potter, the attacks would stop. You were the one who refused.'_

She slammed the book shut and threw it as hard as she could across the room. She couldn't give up Harry like that. She didn't want anyone else to be hurt, but she couldn't just hand her friend over to someone who wanted to kill him. At least the petrified people would be revived in time. She knew that if she gave Harry to Tom he wouldn't be so lucky.

Her vision blurred, and she began to panic. She didn't want to black out again and hurt anyone else, but Tom wasn't going to give her that choice. She felt herself being forced out of the dormitory and to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Tom wasn't being kind this time. He was forcing her to see what she was doing, making her watch as she set the basilisk free again. She cried as he forced her to write in her own blood on the wall _"Her body will lie in the chamber forever"._

He pulled her down into the Chamber of Secrets. She couldn't scream for help - he wouldn't let her - but she needed to let someone know that she needed help and that something bad was going to happen. She instantly thought of what had happened between her and Harry on the train at the beginning of the year. They had never figured out if they had actually spoken with only their minds, but she needed to try. It might be the only chance she had.

She mentally called out to him, screaming as loud as she could imagine her voice being. She continued to call for him until everything went black.

In another part of the castle, a screaming voice startled Harry. He would have known that voice anywhere. Ginny was calling to him. He was instantly on his feet and running. She was in trouble.


	5. Chapter Five: Aftermath

_Author's Note: I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter turned out, but after a handful of rewrites, it was the best I had. It's also a touch shorter than I would normally like, but I didn't want to get too far ahead on what I have planned for the next chapter. I look forward to hearing what you folks think, though, so please leave me your thoughts._

* * *

**Chapter Five: Aftermath**

Ginny could feel her energy disappearing. Tom had such a strong hold on her that there was nothing she could do but wait, as she felt her life slowly seeping away from her. She felt herself getting weaker and weaker. She knew she was lying on the disgusting floor of the Chamber of Secrets, but she couldn't get up, as hard as she tried. She just didn't have the energy. And besides, she was feeling rather comfortable, despite the cold floor beneath her. She could stay there for a little while before getting up and finding a way out.

"_What have you done to her?!"_

No, that wasn't right. Harry wasn't supposed to be in the Chamber of Secrets with her. He was supposed to be safe in the castle where Tom couldn't get him. She didn't want him down here, where he could be hurt. She had worked so hard to protect him from Tom by stealing the diary back and not sharing any information about him. He couldn't be down here now.

"_Ginny is weak. A silly little girl who trusted something she should not. I have done nothing. She did this to herself."_

That wasn't true. She wasn't weak. Well, maybe she was a little bit at the moment. But she'd be okay once Tom left her alone.

"_Let her go. It's not her you want. It's been me all along."_

"_That is true. But I need her strength. You see, I am only a memory of a person. I need the livelihood of another to complete myself."_

"_So take me and let her go."_

"_Now, Potter, we both know that is not the way this works."_

Fear pierced though the haziness of Ginny's mind. Harry couldn't give himself to Tom. She knew that they were good friends and that he cared a lot about her. But she didn't want him to give up his life for her own. She wasn't worth that. She was the one who had made the dumb mistake; she should be the one who has to pay for it. It wasn't fair to allow someone else to take her place.

"_So make it work a different way. You have that power. She doesn't deserve this just because you forced her to trust you!"_

"_What's this, Harry? Do you actually care for this silly girl? Do you love her?"_

"_So what if I do? Let her go."_

"_Maybe you should prove if you're worthy of her, Harry. Prove yourself against the basilisk and we'll see if you can have the silly girl."_

She wanted to scream until everything stopped and she knew that Tom had left Harry alone. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't make a sound. Her mind wanted to scream, but her body was too tired. Tom had taken too much of her energy and she was forced to be silent.

Numbness and oblivion flitted around the edges of her consciousness. It called to her, wanting to bring her to peace and finally allow her to rest. She had been struggling for far too long, and her body was willing to accept the rest that oblivion would provide her.

But she forced herself not to succumb to it. She could hear Harry struggling to escape the basilisk, the sound of his heavy breathing and his moving feet. He was getting tired, she could tell, and she was afraid he was going to make a mistake, and she would lose him forever. She imagined sending any strength she had left to him, hoping to keep him going long enough to survive.

The sound of a phoenix's song caught her attention, but she was sure she had imagined it. It was becoming too hard to fight against the darkness that threatened to overtake her. She struggled to stay aware of what was going on around her, but her body was giving up. It wanted rest. This had been going on for too long.

The blackness overtook her, and she felt herself floating down into some unknown space. She felt herself squeeze her eyes shut, not wanting to imagine where she had ended up.

Images flashed in front of her eyes. She saw herself, older, dancing with Harry. They were both dressed to the nines, and he was laughing. He looked so carefree and happy. He kissed her hand before leading her off the floor.

She saw herself and Harry standing with a man she didn't know. The man transformed into a dog, and the two of them were laughing. They knew this man, and she could tell he was important to Harry.

She saw herself fighting along side Harry. A cloaked man threatened him, and she wasn't about the let anything happen to her friend. She sent a hex at him that caught him square in the chest. Harry smiled at her before running off.

She saw herself kissing Harry. A sweet, delicate kiss of love and caring. They were at the Burrow, lying on a blanket in the orchard. Her hand fit perfectly into his. He pulled back and smiled at her before placing a soft kiss on the forehead.

The question floated into her mind. Was she ready to let go of all that? She was rather comfortable in the darkness. But deep down inside, she knew that if she stayed there, she may never get to see Harry again.

She found herself with a choice to make, and she knew that this was her choice and no one else's. Tom no longer had a grasp on her, she was sure of that. It was all up to her now. She had to choose between the comfortable, safe darkness that she was currently in, or she could return to Harry and all of the suffering she may have to face in the real world.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind which option she would choose. She knew it was going to be hard, but she had to find her way back to Harry. She just didn't feel complete without him.

* * *

Harry kneeled on the floor of the chamber, holding Ginny in his arms, begging her to wake up. The basilisk was dead. Fawkes had come into the chamber and blinded it, allowing him to finally kill it with the sword of Gryffindor. He had used one of the fangs to destroy Tom Riddle's diary, but not before being pierced by one himself. He knew he was dying, even Riddle had known it. But at the moment, he just wanted Ginny to wake up. He needed to know that she was okay before the poison took over.

"Please wake up, Gin," he begged, tears forming in his eyes. She didn't move, she didn't make a sound. He needed her to wake soon. He could feel the poison in his blood, and he needed her to wake up, so she knew how to get back out. "Please wake up."

He was started to fear that he wasn't going to last long enough. The Chamber of Secrets was a maze of confusing hallways and empty rooms. It wouldn't be hard to find Ron, as long as she started off in the right direction. He needed to know that his friend was going to make it out alive. If she didn't wake up, Ron might not make it back out, since Harry couldn't be entirely sure that he hadn't been hurt in the collapse. He had said he was fine, but there was so way to tell if he only felt so because of shock. He really just needed Ginny to wake up so that he knew everyone would make it out in one piece.

"Please Ginny," he continued to beg, the pitch of his voice rising as he felt himself beginning to panic. He couldn't lose his friend. Not like this. "Please wake up. I need you, Gin."

Ginny's eyes fluttered, but didn't open. He couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. She might not be waking up, but she was definitely alive, and that was something. He just needed to bring her back to consciousness somehow. He hugged her tight for a moment, allowing himself to celebrate, before persisting in his attempt to waken her.

"Please, Gin, wake up." He gently shook her shoulders. She groaned, her eyes fluttering again. "Please open your pretty eyes," he begged, becoming desperate. He could feel the poison moving through his body and he didn't know how much time he had left.

Only then did he allow himself to feel the fear of dying. There was so much he still wanted to do, and so many people he was afraid to leave behind. He hadn't spoken to Hermione in months, and Ron was trapped elsewhere in the chamber. He would never have the chance to say goodbye to them, or to tell them how much he appreciated their support.

And Ginny. He had imagined them remaining friends for a long time. He imagined them both playing on the Gryffindor team someday, and celebrating when they passed their OWLs. Even though he didn't feel that way about her, he had imagined what it might be like to kiss her, and what it might be like to be her boyfriend. He would never have the chance to experience any of this now. He would never have the chance to feel anything beside friendship for Ginny.

"Harry," she murmured, her small hands wrapping around his uninjured arm. She looked up at him and smiled, but seemed to sense his distress. Her eyes immediately fell on his injured arm. "Harry, you're hurt."

He shook his head. "Go and find Ron. He's waiting up the far left tunnel. It's caved in, but hopefully he's been able to clear some of it out of the way. You need to go, Gin," he told her, beginning to feel weak.

"I'm not leaving you," she said, holding him tighter. Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "I'm not letting you die here."

He was about to argue with her when Fawkes flew down to where they were sitting, distracting him. Neither had noticed that the phoenix was still there. Fawkes looked at Harry's injured arm, and tears began falling from his eyes. The two watched in shock as the wounds healed before them. Harry felt the fatigue and weakness dissipate, returning him to normal. Neither could believe what they had seen.

"Thank… Thank you, Fawkes," Harry said, staring at his healed arm. Of everything he had seen that night, the result of the phoenix tears was probably the most remarkable. The phoenix trilled a note before taking off up the tunnels.

Ginny launched herself into his arms. She was crying hard by this point. He hugged her tight and rubbed his hand soothingly on her back. He couldn't imagine what she had gone through up until this point. She was hurting, and he wanted to do all he could to help her feel better.

"I'm going to get expelled," she whimpered, when her crying had subsided. "I've caused so much trouble. I didn't mean to. Tom made me do it. I didn't have a choice. What are my parents going to say?"

Ginny's anxiety was causing his stomach to turn. He pulled her tightly into his arms, knowing that hugs often helped her to calm down. At first, he had to fight to hold onto her because she was fidgeting so much, but she soon relaxed against him.

"You're not going to be expelled," he told her, still holding her. "It wasn't your fault, Dumbledore will know that. And your parents will be proud that you were able to fight Tom Riddle for so long, and that you tried so hard." He glanced up the tunnel where Ron was waiting. "We should get out of here. Ron's waiting for us."

He let her go, and helped her to her feet. He picked up the ruined diary, and turned to walk up the tunnel when he felt a small hand slip into his own. He could tell she was still upset, though she was no longer crying, and held her hand, hoping it would make her feel better.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was perplexed. He felt there was no other word that properly described how he was feeling at the moment. Most of what had occurred in the Chamber of Secrets had not surprised him. Once the young Miss Weasley had been taken down and he found that Harry Potter was nowhere to be found, he had a feeling of what the possible outcomes could have been. He was pleased that it had been the best-case scenario in this particular situation: everyone involved was rather shaken, but otherwise unhurt.

It was a couple of small things that both of the children had mentioned that had him pondering. As far as he could tell, no one else had caught the small details, and for that he was thankful. It gave him more time to research, and to find out exactly what was going on with Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley.

When they had been describing what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets, both of them had mentioned that they were able to sense what the other was feeling. It was a rather common thing, as it was not uncommon for some to be more empathetic than others. This is probably why no one else had picked up on this particular quality of the pair. However, by the way they described it, neither had reason to know what how the other was feeling.

He shook his head. It was entirely possible he was reading more into this than he should. He had barely been sleeping lately, with all of the chaos revolving around the Chamber of Secrets. How the horcrux had fallen into the hands of an eleven-year-old girl was beyond him. But he was tired, and it was very possible he was seeing things where there was nothing.

One thing that young Mr. Potter had mentioned had him the most perplexed. Like the empathetic sensing, it had gone unnoticed by everyone, most likely due to the horror that followed in their story. Mr. Potter had mentioned that he had been drawn to the chamber because he heard Miss Weasley call to him.

Hearing voices was unusual, even in the wizarding world. There were numerous possibilities for why these children would experience something like that. There were relational bonds that would allow them to do this. But it also could have been just a feeling. Mr. Potter had said that he had been concerned about Miss Weasley before she had been taken. It was entirely possible that he had simply not been able to find the girl, saw the message and put two and two together In this case, his mind would have added in the detail it felt was needed to completely the story. It wouldn't be the first time Albus had seen something like that.

He couldn't help but sincerely hope that the latter was true, and that Mr. Potter and Miss Wealey were not in a situation of being bound. While being bound had some wonderful benefits, and certain types lead to great happiness, it was not the case for most.

If they were bound… No, it wasn't possible. Albus stifled a yawn. He was a tired, old man who was reading too much into a story told by children. It was just the way they had told the story, and the way he had interpreted it. His exhaustion was leading him to read into things that weren't there.

Regardless, he decided to keep an eye on Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley.

* * *

Ginny clung to Harry as though her life depended on it. In the chamber, it had felt like Tom had robbed her of any comfort and security. She no longer felt safe and found herself always on edge. On one hand, it was beginning to drive her crazy. She was the girl who didn't flinch when her brothers flicked spiders at her, and who held her hand in the fire on a dare until it bubbled and blistered. She was the fearless Ginny, who never backed down.

But, on the other hand, what had happened had rocked her to the core. She had almost died because she had written in a diary, something she had been doing for her entire life. Someone had taken control of her body and mind, and forced her to do horrible things that she couldn't remember. She had been turned into a monster against her will.

She felt disgusting. She found herself standing in the shower, scrubbing her body with soap until it hurt and she turned a bright pink or brought blood to the surface. She washed her hands repeated, trying to get the horrible feeling of being unclean off of her body. But, no matter how hard she scrubbed, she never felt truly clean.

Everyone kept telling her that she would move past this, and things would be back to normal soon enough. Everyone else seemed to be trying to get back to normal. It seemed strange to her, like a favourite shoe that used to fit but no longer did. She kept being treated exactly how she had been before, but it didn't feel right anymore. She wasn't the same person she had been before the Chamber of Secrets and it didn't feel right to still be treated like the little girl she had been before.

The only person who didn't go on like nothing had happened was Harry. It was easier to be with him, and not just because he was the only one who knew really what she had gone through. It was almost as though he understood how she was feeling, though she had no idea how he possibly could. Though every bit of support helped, it sometimes felt like he was the only one who could really comfort her.

At this particular time, the two were sitting on Harry's bed, the curtains drawn tightly around them. The boys who shared his dormitory were rarely around during the day, so it was the optimal place for them to draw comfort from each other. During the evening, they had to be more creative, as Ginny was supposed to be staying in the hospital wing for the remainder of the school year as a precaution. Though they could draw curtains and have some privacy there, it wasn't quite the same when the matron could wander in at any given time.

They were just holding each other, comforting each other as much as they could. After the chilling experience, the pair always felt just a little cold, no matter how high the temperature was or how many blankets they piled on. It was the worst for Ginny. The only time she truly felt warm was when he was holding her.

"What are we going to do when the school year ends, Harry?" she asked, after they had been sitting in silence for nearly a half hour. The thought had only just occurred to her that they weren't going to be able to continue to comfort each other in the way they preferred. "How am I supposed to feel warm without you?"

Without warning, he let her go and pulled away, his hands falling to his lap. She frowned. That hadn't been the response she had been hoping for.

"I guess we'll just have to get used to it," he replied, after a moment. "If I could go with you, I would. But I know I'm going to have to go back to the Dursley's, and I would never take you there. I'd hate for them to treat you like they treat me."

"We could always ask if you could come home with me," she said, hopefully. "If you have somewhere else to go, I'm sure that no one would make you go back to the Dursley's."

Harry shook his head sadly. "I overheard your Mum asking Dumbledore if I could go to the Burrow this summer, but Dumbledore said no. He had said something about protection and required time." He shrugged. He was disappointed, but he didn't want to let her know. He would have much preferred to spend his summer comforting his best friend than trying to ignore the Dursley's.

She seemed to sense his disappointment, and gave him a quick hug, pulling him back towards her. There was nothing she could do to change their situations for the summer, but she could take advantage of the time they did have before the summer began. They might have to get used to the feeling of being alone and of the constant cold, but not just yet.

"What if I need to talk to you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sending me an owl would be easiest, I suppose. But you could always telephone me as well. I'm sure your dad has a telephone in his shed. Hopefully the Dursley's won't be the ones to answer it."

Her face fell. Owls weren't quick, and the idea of this telephone thing made her nervous. Muggle technology could be incredibly handy, but she had never used it before, and she couldn't stand the thought of possibly getting Harry in trouble. If only there were another way.

"Don't worry about talking to the Dursley's," he said, quietly. "It's worth whatever they make me do to talk to you." He pulled her closer, shifting so she was leaning against his chest. "If you ever need to talk to about your thoughts or need someone to hug you until you smile, I'll never be too far. I can reassure you that there's nothing for you to worry about."

It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, and she couldn't help but want to hug him as tight as she could. She had known that what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets was going to change things, and she had been afraid that it was going to be for the worst. She had been wrong, however. It seemed like things were only becoming better between them.

"I'm going to miss you, Harry," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Ginny."

* * *

Harry was not looking forward to going back to the Dursley's for the summer holidays. He hated the idea of being isolated from the magical world and forced to stay with people who treated him like dirt under their feet. He hated the thought of doing mindless chores instead of learning more magic. More than anything, he hated the idea of being away from Ginny for that long.

He tossed another pair of socks into his trunk, not really wanting to pack. If it were up to him, he would be taking advantage of what little time he and Ginny had left to spend together. However, she had been required to have a check up in the hospital wing, and he felt it wasn't appropriate to be there for that. So he was taking advantage of the time apart to start packing for the trip back to the Dursley's.

He wished there was a better way for them to communicate over the summer. Owls and letters were great, but they weren't quick and it was difficult to have a proper conversation with them. Simple conversations took weeks to accomplish, and it just wasn't the same as talking in person. He wished that Ginny were as familiar with muggle technology as he was. Telephones weren't ideal either, but at least you could have a proper conversation.

Then an idea struck him. Maybe it was just because he was desperate, or because he was a bit exhausted due to a lack of sleep since the Chamber, but he couldn't help but wonder about what had happened when he and Ginny on the platform at the beginning of the year. They had been able to talk without actually speaking to each other somehow. Was it possible that they could to that again, but intentionally this time?

He dropped a couple of books into his trunk before heading down to the common room. It might be a long shot, but he felt like he and Ginny needed to talk about this. Maybe it hadn't been just a strange coincidence. He couldn't imagine what would give them this particular ability, but if they had it, he would like to take advantage of it during their summer apart.

It wasn't long before Ginny returned from her trip to the hospital wing. She wore the annoyed expression that told him the matron had been particularly difficult to deal with that day. He felt the urge to hug her until she smiled again, but ignored it. He had more important things he wanted to discuss with her first.

He motioned for her to follow him when she approached. She gave him a curious look but followed him without asking. He led them to a secret passage way that he had accidently discovered during his first year while lost. It was the perfect place for them to talk, as he had never seen another student or professor come through.

"What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. She had never liked secrets. He had often teased her for being too nosy for her own good.

He paused. He had been excited at the possibility of an easy way to talk to his best friend, but he hadn't really though about how he was going to approach the topic. It was a strange thing to try and discuss, even with someone he knew as well as Ginny.

"Do you… er… remember what happened at King's Cross in September?" he asked, awkwardly. Immediately, he wanted to kick himself. Of course she remembered, what a dumb question to ask.

"Yes," she said inquisitively, frowning. He could almost see her remembering how many times that the situation had come up in their conversations.

"Well, er… Have you ever thought about trying it again?" he said. "But trying it when there's nothing happening that we really need to get the other's attention for? Just to have a conversation or something?"

She furrowed her brow. He could tell she hadn't really thought about it before, despite the fact that he knew both of them had gone over the event repeatedly in their minds and discussed it many times. He figured it had never come up because they had never really needed this ability. They had always been able to see each other if they wanted to talk. It was only now that summer was approaching and they would be separated that they needed to find a better way to communicate.

"I hadn't really thought about," she replied, finally. "Do you think we could really do it? We aren't even sure that it was what we were doing those times. It could have been just a coincidence that one of us thought what the other was thinking."

He shrugged. "We might be able to. I think we should try. It would be better than sending you owls this summer, if I could just send you things with my mind." He really wanted to try, and he hoped that she did as well.

"I guess we won't know unless we give it a go," she said. She took charge, like she usually did. He didn't mind; it was one of his favourite things about her. She was fearless, and was open to trying just about anything. "Okay. You try to send me something, but don't tell me what it is. Then we'll know if our minds are just making it up."

Harry had no idea how he was supposed to do this. He hadn't been thinking about it when they were at the platform, so he hadn't thought about how he might have done it. It had been a mindless thing to send the words to her. Now that he was focusing on it and trying to accomplish the same thing intentionally, he was finding it wasn't quite so mindless.

The sentence played through his mind. He tried to push it towards her. He felt himself strain his neck slightly doing this, trying to push it as hard as he could into her mind. He glanced up at her, and she shook her head. She hadn't received the message.

He tried a couple more times, but he couldn't seem to push the message to her. He was beginning to get frustrated and annoyed with the lack of progress. He had really been hoping that this would work for them, and he didn't like the idea of it failing them.

An idea struck him. It was a bit of a strange idea, but he figured it was worth a try. He couldn't read Ginny's mind, so maybe their whole process worked like a telephone. Maybe it needed to travel along a wire or something like that for her to be able to receive it. He replayed the thought in his mind a couple of times, before imagining it traveling along a telephone wire to her.

He kept his eyes closed for a second. He didn't know if this had worked, and he was worried that it wouldn't. As long as he kept his eyes closed, he wouldn't know which it was, and there was always the possibility it had worked. After a moment, he looked up at her, daring to feel hopeful.

She was giving him a strange look, as though she was second-guessing herself. "I don't know if I'm making this up or not, because it's something I kind of noticed," she said, hesitating slightly. "But it wasn't by chance 'I think Ron sometimes lets Hermione win when they play chess together'?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Somehow he had actually managed to send what he was thinking to her. It was far too much of a coincidence that she would think of the exact thing he was trying to tell her.

"That was it," he said, grinning. "When it wasn't working, I was trying to push the thought to you. But when I thought about it travelling a telephone line, you were able to get what I was sending you." He paused for a second, thinking. "It must work something like a telephone, since we are able to communicate but I can't read your mind."

Ginny gave him a confused look. He hastily explained how a telephone worked, and what he meant by a telephone line. He was pretty sure he had seen one in Mr. Weasley's shed and assumed that she would have an idea how it worked.

When she had gotten the idea of it down, she said, "Okay, let me try now."

Harry waited. He couldn't help but feel excited at their new method of communication. It was going to make things so much easier when they were separated for the summer.

After a moment, he started to get worried. He knew it had taken him a while to manage to send his message to her, but he had told her how to do it. He knew she wasn't familiar with the workings of a telephone, but surely she was able to envision it. What if he could only send messages to her, and she couldn't send them to him?

'_Stop giving me that look. I can do this!'_

He broke out into a grin. It was something that he would have known that Ginny would say, but he knew he hadn't come up with that himself. He had been so worried she wasn't going to be able to do it, he would have never thought of her saying that. He wanted to celebrate.

They continued to practice for a while longer. At first, it took them a couple of tries before they were able to properly send the message to the other person. But as they continued, they managed to send each of their messages on the first try. Neither could help but smiling.

'_This changes things for this summer, doesn't it?'_

* * *

The train home was a bittersweet affair. On one hand, everyone was looking forward to returning to their families and having a break from school for a while. On the other, it was the last time a lot of the students would see their friends until the new term began. Most were trying to make the best of the situation, spending most of the return trip home chatting, playing games of chess and gobstones, and taking advantage of the trolley.

For Harry and Ginny, it was more bitter than sweet. While Ginny was excited to see her family, neither of them was ready to leave the other.

'_It'll be alright, Ginny. We can talk anytime. I'm sure the summer will go by quickly.'_

'_I know. I'm just going to miss being able to hug you.'_

'_You'll be so busy with your brothers that you won't even remember to talk to me. Especially if that prank for the twins ends up working out.'_

'_That's true. I guess I'll see you in September, Harry!'_

He frowned at her, even though he knew it was only a joke. She made a face at him and they both started laughing.

They didn't notice Ron and Hermione sitting across from them, watching them intently. They could tell that something was going on between the pair, since they would make faces randomly, though they were sitting in complete silence. Ron and Hermione looked at each other meaningfully. This was something they would need to discuss later.

The ride ended far too quickly, and neither Harry nor Ginny were in a rush to get off the train. They took their time collecting their trunks and saying their goodbyes to classmates. By the time they made it onto the platform, most of the train was empty.

"Have a good summer, Harry," Ginny said, hugging him tightly around the middle. _'I'm going to miss you.'_

"You too, Gin."

"Ginny, come along! We're going to leave without you!" her mother called to her. The pair quickly hugged again before Ginny ran off to join her family.

Harry headed to where the Dursley's were impatiently waiting. It was going to be a long summer.

* * *

Ginny frowned at the unfamiliar letter than had been delivered by a large barn owl that morning. She had been on holiday a couple weeks, but the only person that really wrote her was Harry, who always used Hedwig. The handwriting on the front was familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen it before. She had wanted to rip it open the second she had received it, to see who it was from. But having her brothers sitting around the table had stopped her. No doubt one of them would rip it from her hands and take a look before she would have the chance to. So, as curious as she was about the letter, she waited until she was alone in her room to check it out.

She shut the door and immediately ripped open the envelope. She couldn't help but feel shocked at what she read.

_Ginny,_

_I know we are not really friends, and I don't really know how this letter is going to be received. However, there is a matter that I would like to discuss with you. Please keep and open mind, and be honest with me. _

_I was wondering what your feelings for Harry are. I know you both say you are just friends, but it sometimes looks like something else. The reason I ask is because, well, I believe that I may have feelings for Harry. I haven't acted on them because I have been afraid of ruining my relationships with both of you, and that is a risk I am not willing to accept. I know you and I are not friends, but I would like to be if we were ever able. My feelings for Harry have made a friendship between us difficult, but I would like to try._

_Please write me back. I hope that I have not stepped out of line with this letter. I meant what I said about wanting us to be friends. _

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

Ginny shook her head as hard as she could. Apparently, the bad sleep she had the night before was starting to catch up to her and she couldn't even read a letter properly. But reading over it again, she had to believe that what she had read was indeed what was written on the page. Just to be sure, she pinched herself hard on the arm. Nothing changed. This wasn't even some sort of bizarre dream.

The more she thought about it, though, the more Hermione's feelings made a lot of sense to her. The older girl had always acted a little strange when spending time with both her and Harry. And she had always felt as though she was getting a cold shoulder from Hermione. If she had had feelings for Harry all of this time, it would explain a lot of her actions, especially if she thought that Ginny had feelings for him as well.

She mused, setting the letter down on her bed. What exactly were her feelings for Harry? It was a strange thing to think of, and she had never really given it thought before. She knew he was her best friend, and that they both cared deeply for each other. And while she thought about kissing him occasionally (though no more than she wondered what a kiss would feel like), she didn't exactly feel compelled to do so, like all of the princesses in her favourite stories. So she figured that she wasn't in love with him, at least in that way.

She moved to her desk and gathered some parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to write this letter. Her relationship with Harry was a bit strange to put into words, and she wasn't really sure how she would describe it anyway. They were best friends, but there was more to it as well that she didn't really understand and couldn't really explain.

She decided not to mention anything about the letter to Harry. If she and Hermione were going to be friends, she wasn't going to win any points by telling him about the older girl's feelings. And besides, if Harry was anything like her brothers, he wasn't going to understand it anyway.

* * *

'_Harry! Wake up!'_

Harry jolted away. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the sound, but nothing stood out to him. He grabbed his glasses and his wand, ready for whatever was coming for him. He wished he wasn't so tired, so that he would be better able to fight.

'_Are you awake now?'_

'_Ginny?'_

He put down his wand, his panic fading. He wasn't being attacked. It was just the girl in his head talking to him. He grinned at the thought.

'_I was starting to think you would never wake up! I have something exciting to tell you!'_

He momentarily hoped that her exciting news was that they were coming to rescue him from the Dursley's and he could stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer. The dirty looks and mindless chores were starting to get to him, and he could use the break. He wanted to be around people who actually liked him, instead of those who were forced to tolerate him.

He waited for a moment, but she didn't say anything. _'Well? What is it?'_ He could imagine her grin as she let the anticipation grow.

'_Dad won the lottery! We're going to Egypt for a month to visit Bill. You'll probably get an owl from Ron sometime soon telling you about it as well.'_

He felt his heart sink. He was happy for the Weasleys; if anyone deserved to win money, it was them. And he knew that they would have a fantastic time in Egypt. But he had really been hoping that they were coming to rescue him. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

'_That's fantastic, Gin! I bet you'll have a great time in Egypt.'_

'_I asked if we could take you too, but Mum said there wasn't enough money. I wish you could come along. I hate the thought of leaving you at the Dursley's for so long. We'll be back two weeks before term starts though, and Mum said that you can stay with us from then until we go back to school.'_

'_That's great. Thanks, Gin. I want to hear all about Egypt.'_

He couldn't believe how much he missed his best friend. He felt like a piece of him was missing, and he would have traded anything to be able to spend time with her again. He hadn't known that he could miss someone as much as he missed her.

He would just have to bide his time until he was able to get away from the Dursley's. It was only four more weeks, and the past two and a half had gone by quickly enough. He spent most of his time away from the Dursley's home, wandering around the village, or working on his homework when he could sneak books away. If he kept up those things, he was sure the time would go by quickly enough.

'_I know, Harry. I miss you, too."_


	6. Chapter Six: Discoveries

_Author's Note: Insomnia is to thank for me getting this chapter up this soon. Nothing like four good hours in the middle of the night to get a chapter finished. Due to work, sleep, and social life, the next chapter may take a little longer than I've been averaging lately, so you are warned. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, offered help and asked questions about this story (especially the questions. It makes me have to justify everything I do). Without further ado, chapter six!_

* * *

**Chapter Six: Discoveries**

The summer was dragging on for Harry. He was cut off from the wizarding world, save for a few letters from his friends and talking to Ginny. This left him stuck in the worst part of the muggle world, with no one to talk to and very little to help the days pass by quickly. He worked on his homework, but he could only study for so long before he felt his eyes staring to cross.

He probably would have gone mad if not for Ginny. Though she was incredibly busy with her family and their adventures around Egypt, she managed to find time every so often through the day to talk to him. She would regale him with stories about the tombs they visited, and the twins antics. She would describe everything in such detail that he was sure he could imagine it perfectly.

He looked forward to his talks with Ginny each day. Though his days felt like they melted into each other, he kept track of the difference by what she was doing. It gave him something to work towards when he couldn't stand to look at his homework anymore, and something that made him fell as though he was accomplishing something from day to day. He wasn't just wandering around Little Whinging for the hundredth time.

'_Harry, you're never going to guess what the twins just did to Bill.'_

He couldn't help but smile. He hadn't heard from her since early that morning, and though he had known she would probably contact him soon, he was excited to hear her voice in his head. He also couldn't help but feel intrigued by the mention of a story about the twins. He had heard enough of Egypt from Ginny to know that any story involving Fred and George was bound to make him laugh.

'_What have they done this time?'_

'_He had been bragging that the twins would never catch him with a prank, because he was always too aware of his surrounding from all the years of being a curse breaker. They had tried a bunch of times to catch him with these really complicated schemes, but he always figured them out and turned it around on them. So they put this glue they invented on the inside of his clothes, and didn't tell him that only they had the solvent. Bill's tried everything to try and get it to let go, but of course, nothing will get rid of it except the twin's solvent. Bill's too proud to ask so far, so he's been wearing the same clothes for the past two days.'_

Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud, ignoring the shushing sounds from the Dursley's downstairs. It sounded like something the twin's would do. He wished he could have seen everyone's face when they realized what was going on. Knowing the Weasley's, it would be a while before Bill asked for the solvent, and even longer before they let him forget about the whole thing.

'_That's brilliant! How long do you think it'll be before he asks for it?'_

'_Knowing Bill, not until he starts getting ragged on at work because he hasn't changed his clothes and stinks. And that could be a while. We're all taking bets on it, though.'_

'_You'll have to let me know who wins. I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being the twins, to be honest.'_

'_I wish you could be here, Harry.'_

It seemed like every conversation they had came back to this point. At times, it was comforting to know that she missed him as well. But it also was often a painful reminder that he wasn't with her, and that she was having a lot of fun without him. It was childish, but he couldn't help it. Both he and Ginny liked it better when they were together.

'_Me too.'_

'_I've got to go. Bill's taking us out to a muggle restaurant for a treat. He says it's one of the best places in all of Egypt. Is it okay if I talk to you later?'_

'_I look forward to it.'_

He sighed, and pulled out his Defense Against the Dark Arts book from his first year. Quirrell had barely used it, and he figured it might be something interesting to read while he waited to hear from Ginny again. It was a rather thick volume, so he hoped it would last for a while.

* * *

Harry stared at the letter in his hand, not exactly sure what he was supposed to make of it. He had been hoping for something that would break the monotony of the day, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. He read it over again, just to make sure he was reading it right.

_Dear Harry,_

_This is a rather difficult thing to put into writing, but as school is still a month away, I will try my best. I do not wish to leave this until we have returned to Hogwarts. _

_Harry, I think I may like you as more than a friend. You are a wonderful person, and not at all what I had thought Harry Potter might be like when I had first read about you. You have been a very good friend to me, and I hope that revealing my feelings will not ruin this. I do not wish to suggest that we become boyfriend and girlfriend. I just wanted to reveal my feelings in the hope that you may have similar ones._

_Please write me back. _

_Hermione_

Hermione liked him as more than a friend? He wasn't even entirely sure what that was supposed to mean. Judging by the fact she mentioned boyfriend and girlfriend, he figured it was something along that line. Did this letter mean that she had a crush on him?

What was he supposed to do? He hadn't even known that the others in his year were thinking about things like that yet. He was only interested in Quidditch, school, and spending time with friends. Girls hadn't really even crossed his mind yet, other than general curiosity and friendship. Sure, he had thought about what it might be like to kiss a girl, and what it might be like to be in love, but he hadn't actually wanted to do anything about these thoughts. That was still ages away. He was still pretty sure that some girls had cooties.

What made this whole situation more complicated was the fact that Hermione was his friend. He didn't want to hurt her, because he did genuinely care about her. She had been there for him and helped him out numerous times, and he would hate to lose her as a friend. He didn't want to date her, and he wasn't interested in her like that, but he didn't want to ruin the fantastic friendship they had.

He needed to write her back, and explain his feelings. He hoped that she wouldn't take it the wrong way, but he also knew that he was thick when it came to feelings and stuff. He was going to need some help dealing with this.

'_Ginny! What do I do?'_

'_Oh, Hermione wrote you?'_

He paused a second. Her response hadn't been what he was expecting. He expected to have to explain what had happened, but she replied as though she had known this was going to happen.

'_Did you know about this?'_

'_Yeah. Hermione wrote me a while ago asking if it was okay if she wrote you about it. I just didn't know when she was going to do it. She wrote me at the beginning of the summer.'_

There was something odd about what Ginny was saying. If this were a matter between him and Hermione, why would Hermione write her to see if it was okay? What did she have to do with any of this?

'_Why would she ask you if she could write me?'_

'_I don't know. Maybe to get an idea of what I thought you might say?'_

He found himself coming to the conclusion that girls were bloody weird. Why did they have to make this so complicated? He had seen other girls in his year go about things like this, especially the few who had been known to have crushes. He could never figure why they had to do so much talking to each other when they could get a straight answer so easily.

'_So… What are you going to tell her?'_

He had thought that Ginny was different from the other girls, but she seemed as interested in the whole thing as the other girls would be. Girls were strange creatures.

'_I don't like her that way. She's my friend, and I want her to keep being my friend. But I don't want to kiss her or date her or anything. I just want to keep things the way they have always been.'_

'_So tell her that. Just say it nicely. It's going to be hard for her to hear something like this, so be careful of how you word it.'_

She might be just like some of the other girls that he went to school with, but he was thankful for her advice. He had been so confused and thrown off from receiving a letter like this from his friend that he probably would have just responded quickly to keep her from getting the wrong idea from the start. He would have never thought that how it was worded could cost him his friendship with Hermione.

He sat down and started to pen the letter back to his friend, choosing his words carefully and rereading every sentence a dozen times to make sure it couldn't possibly be construed in any way other than the way he meant it. It ended up being short, but it got his point across, was not hurtful, and he made it clear that he really did want to remain friends with her.

As he tied the letter onto Hedwig's leg, he could only hope that she was going to take this well.

* * *

Being apart was harder than they could have imagined. Harry missed all of his friends. He would have liked to talk to them, but they were away on holidays. But at the same time, he was doing fine without them. If he had the opportunity to spend time with them, he would have jumped at the chance, but it wasn't absolutely necessary. He would see them soon enough.

But missing Ginny was something entirely different. He truly felt like part of him was missing, and he craved contact. He would have given his left arm if it meant he could spend time with her again. Their ability to speak with their minds was fantastic, but it only dulled the craving he felt for her company. He really didn't know how he was going to make it until the middle of August.

He sighed, and returned to his History of Magic paper. There was no point dwelling on the fact that she wasn't there. And staring out the window, hoping that time would go by faster wasn't exactly making time go faster.

'_You know, Harry, you being miserable is really distracting. Some of us are trying to sleep.'_

They had realized that they were able to share emotions. It was a rather strange thing (not that anything about them seemed that normal). At first, they had thought they were just really good at reading each other. But now that they were separate, they realized that they were actually able to sense the other's emotions. Harry had been able to feel Ginny's fear when the twins had locked her up in one of the pyramids, and she was able to tell when he was missing her more than usual.

They weren't really sure what to make of the whole thing. First, they were able to communicate each other's using only their minds. Now they were able to share emotions. They were almost afraid to ask what was coming next. They knew something was different about them, but they weren't sure what it was or what they were supposed to do about it. For now, they were content to have a way to talk to each other and the ability to sense the other without having to ask. It made being friends easy.

'_Sorry, Gin. It's just hard when you don't have a lot to distract you.'_

He didn't have to explain this to her. He knew she could sense his boredom along with his misery some days. But they tried to keep this whole situation as normal as possible.

'_I know. I wish I could be there to keep you company.'_

'_Me too, Gin. I'll try to be less miserable, and you try to get back to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow when it's not the middle of the night in Egypt.'_

He turned back to his essay. It was hard for him to ignore his urge to think of how brilliant it would be if Ginny could be with him, but focusing on his essay was helping. His only concern with it was that he was starting to get though a lot of his homework, and he wouldn't have a lot of papers left to write after this one was finished.

He dipped his quill in his ink, but a quiet crack in the room caught him off guard and he spilled the whole bottle onto his essay. He spun around quickly, wondering what on Earth could have made that noise. His jaw dropped when he saw the source of the noise.

"Harry!"

Ginny hit him at a run, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her back. He had no idea how she had appeared in the room, but he didn't worry about it for the moment. He was just happy to hug his best friend. She smelled of flowers and vanilla and a spice he didn't recognize. He buried his face in her long hair, breathing in her comforting scent.

"How did you do that?" he asked, when they had finally let go of their death grip on each other. They were still entwined, their legs tangled together and holding hands. It just felt better to be touching, and it had been quite some time since they had done so.

She thought for a second before replying. "I'm not entirely sure. I could feel that you were still missing me, and I just kept wishing that I could be with you. I closed my eyes and then I appeared in your room."

The two sat in silence for a moment, considering what had just happened. Then Harry felt his best friend start to panic.

"Harry," she said. She was trying to keep her voice calm, but he could hear it shaking despite her efforts. "If I don't know how I got here, how am I supposed to get back?"

Neither of the pair knew how to answer that question. It wasn't as though they could apparate, and Egypt was far too far for her to fly back on a broom. Muggle transportation was out of the question. For all intents and purposes, she was stuck at the Dursley's.

"Mum and Dad are going to be so angry," she said, her voice pitching higher as her panic intensified. "And I'm not going to be able to explain how this happened. They'll never think to look for me here, because there's no way that I could have easily gotten here. They're going to think I was kidnapped."

Harry grabbed his friend's hands and pinned her in place. "Gin, you need to calm down. We need to think of solution, and neither of us can do that if you keep making us panic." He moved so that he was leaning back on his bed, and pulled her close to him. He held her as tight as he could, since he knew that this often helped her feel more in control.

Both of the children considering the situation they now found themselves in. They needed to find a way to get Ginny back to her bed in Egypt. She had never been more thankful that she was the only girl and therefore got a room to herself. They had until morning to figure this out. No one would come looking for her until then.

When she had calmed down to a point where he wasn't afraid she was going to become hysterical, he quietly slipped downstairs and made her a glass of warm milk. His aunt always gave it to Dudley when he was upset over something dumb, and it always seemed to calm him down. Maybe it would do the same for his friend. He added a touch of vanilla when it had finished in the microwave, knowing that she found the scent relaxing.

She gladly accepted the mug from him and took a sip. He could feel her starting to return to normal. He was glad. He had no idea how they would have figured it out if she had continued.

While she sipped her drink, breathing deeply, Harry considered how she might have gotten to the Dursley's in the first place. Neither of them could apparate, nor there was no other way he knew of that would allow someone to just pop to another place. The only thing he could think was that they had both really wanted to be together. They had both been wishing the whole time that they could be in the same place. The whole idea seemed rather far-fetched, but learning that they could communicate mentally and sense emotions, he wasn't about to overlook any small details.

"Gin," he said, after she had set the mug down on the table, looking far calmer and in control than she had a few minutes ago. "You said you really wanted to be here when you disappeared in Egypt, right?"

She nodded in response.

"And I was here, wishing we could be together." He paused for a second. This all sounded so peculiar. "What if we made you come here because we both wanted to be together?"

She gave him a funny expression at first, but he knew that she couldn't deny that it was possible. They had discussed repeatedly all of the strange things that were happening to them. How was this any more strange than what was already happening?

"It's possible, I guess," she replied, finally. He could tell that she still wasn't completely sure where he was going with this. He didn't blame her; he had sort of pulled her out of her bed in the middle of the night in Egypt.

"I don't know how likely this is, but maybe if we both wished that you were back in your bed in Egypt, you would appear back there again," he explained.

She shifted, and he could tell she didn't think the plan was likely to work. "I suppose it's worth a try," she said, looking more determined instantly. "Can't be any stranger than anything else we've been through."

The pair both closed their eyes and hoped as hard as they could that Ginny was back in her own bed in Egypt. At different times, they each peeked at the other, seeing if they were still there. They shut their eyes as tight as they could and wished as hard as they could.

Harry heard a small pop and he opened his eyes. He looked around the room, but Ginny was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't help but smile a bit. If they could move to each other, it would make this summer far more bearable.

'_Ginny, did you make it back?'_

'_Yes! It was so cool. You should see if you could come here. I'd love to show you my room, and the view of the city!'_

He had never been on a vacation before, because the Dursley's had always left him behind at Mrs. Figgs. He had never been out of the United Kingdom, let alone somewhere as fascinating as Egypt. Even if he couldn't go to all of the cool tombs she had told him about, he would love to just see a view of the area they were staying.

'_It's worth a try!'_

He closed his eyes and wished as hard as he could that he were in Egypt with Ginny. He imagined all of the things he could see, and how nice it would be to hug his friend. He could feel Ginny's longing as well, pulling him towards Egypt. But as hard as they tried, they couldn't transport him.

'_Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe it was accidental magic that sent you here.'_

'_Maybe we should try it again. If it was accidental magic, at least I got to see you for a couple of minutes. But if I can actually transport myself to you, I wouldn't mind sleeping over. We would just have to set an alarm so I could be back before Mum comes looking for me.'_

They both closed their eyes and wished hard that Ginny was at the Dursley's. In an instant, she appeared in his bedroom. She yawned, and crawled underneath his covers, pulling him in as well and snuggling close to him.

"I wish I could have seen Egypt," he said, only a little disappointed that their plan hadn't worked out. He made a mental note to give it another try, when they were both more awake. It seemed strange that she was able to do it and he wasn't, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was just because they didn't want it bad enough. Either way, it was worth coming back to.

"It would have been nice, but we can always go someday together," she replied, wrapping his arm around her and holding it tight. "Maybe when we're older and are allowed to go in all the tombs."

"I hope so," he said, yawning himself. Everything that had happened since he had put aside his essay was starting to wear on him, and he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. "Good night, Ginny."

"Good night, Harry. Sweet dreams."

* * *

'_Harry! You need to calm down!'_

The emotions were running through Harry so quickly, he could hardly see straight. The events that had just taken place were racing through his mind, playing over and over again. He had been doing so well. He had kept his patience with Aunt Marge, and ignored all of the comments hurled in his direction. But this time she had taken it too far, and he couldn't just block her out like he had been.

He hadn't intended to lose it, and he definitely hadn't wanted to blow her up. He was just so angry that he couldn't control himself anymore, and suddenly she was expanding. He instantly regretted losing his temper and his focus, but he hadn't been able to stand hearing all of those horrible comments about his parents.

He didn't know what he was going to do now. Accidental magic was one thing when he didn't know that he was a wizard, but he was sure that the Ministry wasn't going to overlook it now that he had two years of training at Hogwarts. He was sure that he was going to be expelled, and then what was he going to do? He couldn't stay at the Dursley's (they would never allow him back after this), and he didn't really have anywhere to go. He paced his room, quickly throwing all of his things into his trunk. Even if he didn't know where he was going to go, he knew he needed to get out of the Dursley's house.

'_Harry! What happened? Talk to me!'_

He quickly told her everything that had happened, while making sure that everything got into his trunk. He didn't want to have to go back for anything once he had left.

'_Harry, go outside and hold your wand out. This crazy bus will show up in a couple of minutes, and it'll take you wherever you want to go. It's not the most comfortable ride, but it's probably the fastest you can get away without being seen. Go to the Leaky Cauldron. We've stayed there a few times, and it's not bad. I'll meet you there.'_

It didn't sound like the best plan to him, but it was better than hanging around Privet Drive. He would have preferred to just go to the Burrow and hide out there until he figured out what he was going to do with his life. But it was a plan, and he wasn't in the position to try to argue for something better.

Within the hour, he found himself standing in his room in the Leaky Cauldron. The trip had been anything but pleasant. He had to fight to keep them from figuring out who he was until the Minister had blown his cover when they had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, and he had been thrown around so many times that solid ground felt kind of wobbly. And to make it all worse, the criminal that had been on the muggle news, Sirius Black, turned out have broken out of a wizard prison.

He wanted to lie down, but he felt like he couldn't. The Minister had assured him that he wouldn't be expelled from Hogwarts, but it didn't make sense. Sure, he hadn't intended to blow up his aunt, but he had done magic nonetheless. He had the bad feeling that the only reason he hadn't been expelled was because he was Harry Potter. But as much as he hated this, it was better than being expelled from Hogwarts.

He took his wand out of his pocket and laid it on the table, just as Ginny appeared in the room. He had almost completely forgotten that she was going to join him. He was glad; he needed some company, and there was no one who could have cheered him up better than Ginny.

"Are you okay?" she asked, as soon as she had fully materialized in the room.

He nodded, and she hugged him tightly. He had no idea why these sort of things always happen to him, but he was glad the she was here.

"How do these things always happen to you?" she teased, running and jumping on his bed, reading his mind. "You couldn't just have punched your aunt like a normal person, could you?"

He had to laugh at the idea of punching his aunt. She was so large, he was sure that she wouldn't feel it, no matter how hard he swung at her. It might have gone over better than blowing her up as well. He would have just proved that he belonged at Saint Brutus's. It might have even made his uncle happy.

"I brought you a present," she said, handing him something from her pocket. It turned out to be a chocolate frog. He looked at her, confused. She continued, "When I was little and I got upset by something someone said, my dad would bring me a chocolate frog. I thought you could use one this time."

"Thanks, Gin," he said, tearing open the package. He usually wasn't huge on chocolate. But after eating the frog, he found himself feeling better, so there must be something to it. It was a small gesture, but he really appreciated it. It was always the little things Ginny would do that struck him.

"I wish we could watch a film," he said, collapsing onto his bed. "I could use something to distract me right now."

At the confused look his friend gave him, he quickly explained what a film was, and how it was played on a screen. She nodded in agreement, knowing it had been far too exciting of a day. She could have used the distraction as well.

"We should check out Dad's shed sometime," she said, collapsing onto his bed, looking ready to fall asleep. "He might have something that could play films out there. And he'd love to spend time checking it out and figuring out how it works."

He nodded. Her fatigue was contagious, and he felt himself starting to doze off. He lay down on his bed, and motioned for her to come closer. She snuggled against him, and the two children feel asleep, recovering from the hectic day.

* * *

Harry was excited to see Hermione. He had been in Diagon Alley for almost a week, and he had already completed his shopping for school and most of his homework. He had met a lot of interesting people, but he looked forward to speaking to someone he actually knew and was friends with.

He couldn't help but feel a little nervous though. After the letter he had received from Hermione, he wasn't sure what was going to happen. He knew she was going to want to discuss it with him, and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to talk to her and say all the right things. The only reason that his letter had gone well was because of the advice from Ginny. He hoped that the same rule still applied, and he would still have Hermione as a friend at the end of the day.

They had planned to meet outside Fortescue's at three, but he was already sitting with an ice cream, despite being almost twenty minutes early. There was only so long he could wander around Diagon Alley while his mind raced about his friend. He couldn't help but think that his being early might mean he could have two ice creams. He really liked Fortescue's ice cream, and wouldn't complain about having an extra one. He could imagine Ginny making a comment about boys and their appetites at this though, and he laughed to himself.

After about fifteen minutes, he saw his bushy haired friend approaching around the corner. Typical for Hermione, she was early. He had expected nothing less.

"Hello, Harry," she said, giving him a warm hug. "It's so good to see you again. How has your summer been?"

He hadn't written her with the events of the summer, since he thought it was better to discuss all of it in person. He told her everything that had happened, mentioning the Weasley's windfall (though he figured Ron had told her as well) and the incident with his aunt. She was appropriately horrified at what had happened, and chastised him for losing his temper. On the other hand, she was relieved that he hadn't been expelled from Hogwarts and that he was okay. He had decided to leave out the details about Ginny. He knew he would have to tell his perceptive friend sooner or later, but he felt like it wasn't the time just yet.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, eating their ice cream and considering their position. Both were thinking the same things, but were hesitant to actually bring it up. They liked to think themselves to be fairly grown up, especially after all that they had been through the past few years, but they both felt very much like children in that moment.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione said finally, her face flushing a bright red. She didn't look the Hermione that he had gotten to know. She looked younger, and more vulnerable. He found that he liked to see this side of her as well. He loved Hermione as a friend, but sometimes she could be a bit much when it came to schoolwork and rules.

He felt himself flush as well. "I'm sorry, too."

"Don't be silly," she said, taking another bite of her ice cream. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who made everything awkward."

He shook his head. He really didn't want to have this conversation with her, but he knew there was no way around it.

"I knew in the back of my head that you didn't feel that way about me, and I should have listened, instead of going by my feelings. I had managed to convince myself that you might be thinking the same way as me, and that this was all a good idea. I guess I'd been reading too many muggle romance novels, and I'd gotten the wrong idea about the whole thing. If I had just opened my eyes, I could have seen that you were with Ginny…"

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed, as his best friends name was mentioned. "What do you mean, you could have seen that I was with Ginny?"

His friend blushed again. "Well, I just meant… You two are always together. I just assumed…"

"Ginny and I are just friends," Harry said, wondering how on Earth Hermione had thought that he and Ginny were a couple. Sure, they spent a lot of time together, but it wasn't like they were snogging in the common room or running off together to be alone. They just hung out. They played chess and flew and worked on homework together.

"I'm sorry, Harry," his friend said. "I just thought you guys were taking your time, you know, getting together."

"We're just friends, just like you and I are," he replied. He hoped this was all coming across nicely, and he wasn't accidently hurting his friend.

Hermione smiled at his words. It was clear that she had been worried that this whole situation was going to ruin their friendship, and she looked visibly relieved when he mentioned that they were friends. He couldn't help but feel relieved as well. Ginny had told him those feelings for friends could completely ruin friendships if not handled properly, and it looked as though this was going to fairly well.

"Do you think we can put all of this behind us?" Hermione asked, sounding just a little nervous.

"I think so," he replied, with a smile.

"Do you think that Ginny will be okay with all of this?" she asked. "I know that you guys aren't together, but you are best friends and care about each other a lot. I wrote to her about this, and she seemed okay with it, but I don't want any animosity with her. I like Ginny, and now that this is all done and over with, I would like to be friends with her."

'_Hey Gin, do you want to be friends with Hermione?'_

'_That's a dumb question. I like Hermione. I would love to be friends with her, as long as she stops being weird around me. I don't like getting the cold shoulder from her. But I'm guessing that if you're asking this, I don't have to worry about that too much anymore.'_

He noticed Hermione gave him a strange look while he was speaking to Ginny, probably due to his long delay before responding. He briefly considered telling her about him and Ginny, but decided to wait. He needed to speak with Ginny before he did anything like that. He chose to ignore that he had hesitated at all.

"I think she'll be fine. She always seemed to want to be friends with you, she just said it was a bit weird," he replied, simply.

* * *

Harry hated travelling by Floo, but if it got him out of the Leaky Cauldron and to the Burrow, he supposed it was worth it. He couldn't help but cough as the soot flew into his open mouth (_'Close your mouth next time, Potter!'_), and he stumbled out of the fireplace, feeling like he had been dragged through the wringer.

After his stay in Diagon Alley, the Burrow was such a welcome sight. He liked the chaos that existed there, and he enjoyed the environment the people in the house created. He felt the most at ease when he was there, even if it was only going to be for a couple of weeks this time. And best of all was the fact that his best friend was there. He couldn't wait to see Ginny.

When he stepped out of the fireplace, he saw Ginny waiting for him at the kitchen table. At the sound of him stumbling into the room, she launched herself in his direction, wrapping her arms around his sooty body. He was immediately concerned about the sundress she was wearing, but forgot quickly at the warmth of the hug. He knew he had really missed her, despite spending a number of nights together, but this was something completely different.

The two stood in their hug for a long moment; briefly forgetting that most of the Weasley family was around them. They were just enveloped in each other, not worrying about anything or anyone else. Neither of them was sure exactly what they were experiencing, or why the hug felt like it did, but they didn't care. It felt good, and who were they to argue?

Someone cleared their throat, and they quickly jumped apart, their faces blushing bright red. They had almost forgotten that they were standing in the middle of the kitchen at the Burrow.

"Harry, you look a little thin. Sit down and have something to eat," Mrs. Weasley fussed, pushing him towards a chair at the table and setting a plate loaded with food in front of him.

He had no idea how she thought he looked thin. After his time in Diagon Alley, his pants felt a little tighter from all the good food he had been eating. If anything, he had gained a couple of kilograms since leaving the Dursley's house. But Mrs. Weasley always seemed to be fussing about how much he was eating, and she was the best cook he knew, so he wasn't about to complain.

Breakfast led into a pick up game of Quidditch in the field out back. It felt so good to fly again, though Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed that the boys wouldn't let Ginny play. She didn't seem too concerned though. She just smiled and told him that she would steal some of his time later.

It was nice to be out on the field again. He hadn't been able to fly since they had left Hogwarts in the spring, and it was nice to get up in the air again. It was nice to burn off some of his excess energy with friendly competition as well, since he really hadn't had an outlet since he had left the Dursley's. And, in all honesty, that hadn't been a proper outlet, it had been a reaction.

Quidditch led to a fantastic lunch of sandwiches, crisps and fruit eaten down by the pond. The boys had run off to grab the swimming trunks after finishing, but Harry snuck off with Ginny. After a few moments of deliberation, they decided to head for Ginny's room. He knew that she felt a little strange about the whole situation and was concerned that her mum might wander up and accuse her of being a scarlet woman. But it was the place they were the least likely to be interrupted.

He had never been in a girl's bedroom before. It was strangely unlike Ron's room, or any other boy's room he had seen. It was painted bright pink, with posters of musical groups and family photos all over the walls. And there was stuff everywhere. Books on every surface, stuffed animals strewn about, magazines on the floor. It looked like a bomb had gone off, leaving colorful and sometimes fluffy things everywhere. He couldn't imagine how someone could live in a space that was so… girly.

The pair lay down on Ginny's bed, allowing themselves to relax in their solitude for a moment. It felt like so long since they had spent time together properly. It was nice to just sit in silence, not worrying about anything else that was going on around them.

"Does it feel different for you, too?" Ginny asked, after nearly five minutes of quiet.

Harry hesitated for a moment. He had never figured out how Ginny always seemed to know what he was thinking, without him saying anything. They had tested this connection they had, but had found they couldn't mind read, just talk as though on a telephone. Both had felt relieved at this discovery, as neither could imagine having someone, even their best friend, able to poke around in their head at will. They were best friends, but they enjoyed their privacy as well.

"Definitely," he replied, finally. "I missed you a lot over the summer. Now that we're both in the same place, I just want to spend time with you."

"Exactly. I don't care what I'm doing anymore, as long as it's with you." She paused a moment. "Which means you may be helping me with some laundry tomorrow."

"That's fine," he said, with a chuckle. "I know hold to fold clothes."

Harry wished that he could explain what he was feeling. It was strange, and he didn't quite understand what it was all about. He had missed Ron and Hermione over the summer, and would have loved to see them, but it was different than what he felt for Ginny. Not a day went by that he didn't think of her, and he couldn't imagine going even half a day without talking to her. It almost felt as though she was a part of him.

He couldn't help but wonder if all of this had to do with whatever the connection they seemed to have was. Were his feelings related to their ability to talk mentally and for Ginny to move to where he was?

Now that they were back together, the fact that they were back together was not enough to keep his curiosity at bay. Something was going on with them, and he wanted to know what it was.

"When we get to Hogwarts, we should do some research about whatever is going on with us," he said to Ginny, who was curled up against his side. They had eaten a big lunch, and it was looking like it was starting to catch up with her. It was as though the bed they were laying on was demanding they take a nap. "I know it doesn't matter, because we're still just friends. But it would be nice to know why it's happening."

"Hmm," she hummed in agreement, not opening her eyes.

Her sleepiness was catching, and he felt himself starting to drift off despite his fight to stay awake. What would a short nap hurt?

* * *

"Harry, m'dear boy, could we chat for a moment?"

Fred appeared out of nowhere behind Harry and nearly caused the younger boy to drop the cookie he was eating. Harry had no idea where Fred had appeared from, or how he had snuck up without a sound, but also wasn't surprised. With the mischief the twins had caused, he wasn't surprised they could move without the slightest noise.

He nodded, and followed the twin into the empty kitchen, where they found George sitting at the table. He couldn't help but get the feeling that this wasn't going somewhere good. He liked the twins, and trusted them to an extent, but something about this situation made him nervous. The twins were up to something, and he couldn't imagine what it might be. But knowing them, it would involve some fireworks and something that wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Ah, Harry, how lovely to see you," George said, motioning for Harry to sit down. When he didn't move right away, Fred shoved him down into the chair.

"We seem to have noticed that you shared a rather, shall we say, intimate moment with our darling sister this morning," Fred started, causing Harry to flush.

"Not to mention a longer moment in her room this afternoon."

Harry felt his jaw drop. He had no idea how they had known about that. The pair had been careful to close the door before they had feel asleep, and he was pretty sure no one had come in during their nap. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"We like you Harry, but we find ourselves a little concerned."

"You see, Ginny is just a little girl."

"Not that you are much older yourself."

"And we feel as though neither of you really know what you're in for."

"You see, Ginny is a lovely girl."

"A bit stubborn at times though."

"And she had six older brothers."

"Who care for her very much."

"And we like you a lot, Harry."

"We think you have a lot of potential."

"For many things."

"But if you hurt our little sister."

"Keep in mind…"

"…What might be coming your way."

Harry had never seen the twins so serious before. Usually they were on the side of lighthearted, an easy smile on their faces. But there was no sign of that now. Their expressions were so serious, it made his skin crawl a little bit.

"I don't think you understand," Harry began to explain, nervously. He couldn't imagine what the twins might do to him if he accidently crossed whatever this line was. He had no idea how everyone had gotten this idea that he and Ginny were a couple. He didn't even think of her that way. They were just friends, with some strange abilities. That was it. "Ginny and I are just friends. That's it. We just like spending time together. We aren't, you know, snogging or anything."

Fred nodded. "That's what we like to hear, Harry. But we mean what we say, and we speak for all of Ginny's brothers. Just keep that in mind."


	7. Chapter Seven: She Killed It With Kisses

_Author's Note__: Sorry for the delay in getting this up. Real life got in the way, and I wasn't able to put as much time into writing as I would have liked. However, it's up now, and I hope you like it. It's essentially a filler chapter, but I felt like it was important to start developing their relationship a little more. And it's always nice to have a little fluffy fun._

* * *

**Chapter Seven: She Killed It With Kisses**

It took Harry less than twenty-four hours to adjust to life at the Burrow. It was easy to fall into a rhythm when surrounded by wonderful company and an easy sort of lifestyle. He had forgotten how nice it was to be a part of a family, even if he wasn't a biological member. The Weasleys had always treated him as if he was one of their own, and he always enjoyed his time with them.

Despite the short amount of time he had been there, he had already played half a dozen games of quidditch, eaten more than his fill, and lost at least ten games of chess to Ron. In all of the chaos that came with a large house full of people, Harry had nearly forgotten to give Ginny her birthday present. He almost felt bad, since he had been teasing her about it for a while, but at the same time, he was excited that he was going to be able to see her reaction in person.

He had found her present when he had been wandering around Diagon Alley. He had debated for ages about what to get his friend. The only other girl he had shopped for was Hermione, and he usually just bought her books. He knew he could get Ginny a book, but he wanted to get her something a bit more special.

He had finally found some things the day before he was due to leave for the Burrow. He would have loved to get her a new broom, but he knew it wouldn't go over well with the Weasleys. This had been considerably less, but he thought she would like it.

After lunch, everyone had wandered off on their own, relaxing or trying to finish homework they hadn't completed earlier in the summer. Harry couldn't help but feel relieved that his homework was finished. Ron and the twins appeared to be feeling rather stressed about the amount of homework they had left, and were scribbling as fast as they could on their parchment.

"Want to go down to the pond?" Ginny asked, as Harry was wandering around the backyard, trying to get away from the schoolwork chatter inside. He had already finished his homework, and he didn't want to hear about it anymore.

He nodded, and paused a moment. "I'll meet you down there. I just need to grab something."

He quickly ran up to Ron's room and pulled her present out from his trunk. He was glad he had thought to wrap it before leaving Diagon Alley. He just hoped that she would like it. He quickly ran down to the pond, where Ginny was sitting and waiting for him.

"Close your eyes," he told her, and she quickly covered her eyes with her hands. He went to move the present from behind his back when he noticed her peaking through her fingers. He laughed. "Hey! No peaking!"

"Well, hurry up then," she said, as she squirmed. He knew she hated surprises, but he liked drag things out a little to tease her. He pretended to think about it for a minute, making her squirm in anticipation for a little longer. Finally, he placed the gift in her lap and told her to open her eyes.

She opened her eyes and let you an excited squeal when she saw the wrapped gift in her lap. She quickly ripped the colourful paper off of the present. She let out another squeal when she saw the box of fancy chocolates, the diary, and the quidditch gloves that the package contained.

"Thank you, Harry!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend. She picked up the box of chocolates. "I've never had these before. They were always too expensive, even though they looked so good."

"So why don't you open the box and try them?" he said with a laugh. She quickly ripped the packaging off of the box, and tossed a chocolate in her mouth, handing one to Harry as well. They both agreed that they were the best chocolates either of them had ever eaten.

They laid back on the edge of the pond, the box of chocolates lying between them. He wanted to leave them for Ginny, but she kept insisting that he eat more. It was a lovely day, the sun warm on their faces. He couldn't help but remember his dreams from first year, with him and Ginny swimming in the pond. It seemed like so long ago, and that so much had happened since he had first seen her image in the Mirror of Erised.

"Why the diary, Harry?" she asked, after they had been silent for a few minutes. "My parents and brothers won't let me near any notebooks. I think they're worried I'm too traumatized from what happened in the Chamber of Secrets to keep a diary anymore."

Harry shrugged. "You said you've been keeping a diary for your entire life. While you had a bad experience with one last year, it doesn't mean that all diaries are bad. I just thought that you might like to have a new one that you know is safe. I know you still have the one that I gave you last year, but now you don't have to find a new one anytime soon, so you know that you're safe for a while."

She smiled, and hugged him again. "Such a gentleman," she said, in a joking tone. "Always looking out for my wellbeing, aren't you Potter? How did I get so lucky?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know about lucky. You've also got a best friend who finds trouble no matter where he goes."

"I don't know, Harry. I still think I'm pretty lucky. I can deal with all the trouble you seem to find yourself in."

She laid her head down on his chest, and snuggled close to him. He knew that it was couples that usually lay like this, from watching the television occasionally at the Dursley's. But it was different when it was Ginny. It wasn't some sort of intimate thing, it just felt right to be like this.

They rested there for nearly a half hour in silence. Harry was starting to get stiff from his position, but she looked so comfortable that he didn't want to move. They only had a short amount of time left before they would return to the chaos of Hogwarts, and he wanted her to be able to enjoy every moment of it.

He had thought she had fallen asleep when she piped up, "So Harry, can we go try out my new quidditch gloves now?"

* * *

Ginny wasn't sure if she was imagining things, or if everyone was starting to act weird around her and Harry since he had arrived at the Burrow a few days ago. She noticed that her brothers were staring far more than they usually did, and her parents were acting funny around her. She had also noticed that people would pop up randomly when she and Harry were spending time alone.

Like the night before, for example. She and Harry had been sitting in her room. She had been working on the last of her summer homework, and Harry had been reading a book on dragons that they had found in Charlie's old room. It was completely innocent, just taking advantage of the chance to sit in the same room together. But every ten minutes or so, one of her brothers or her mum would knock on the door and look into the room. They had an excuse each time: looking for a book, object or asking a silly question about laundry or dishes.

It had seemed strange. Her brothers and mum seemed to ask a number of questions they could have easily figured out on their own. But they usually did it at random times, and definitely not all concentrated into the same time frame. She had ignored it at first, figuring it was just their usual antics and she was just being overly sensitive.

When she thought about it later, though, she realized that this was something that happened every single time that she was alone with Harry, and especially if they were alone behind closed doors. But once again, she figured it was just a strange coincidence, and that she was just reading more into it than was actually there.

It wasn't until her mum asked if there was something going on between her and Harry that she actually realized what was going on. It was clear, despite the fact she had told her mum that she and Harry were just friends, that her brothers and parents believed that there was more to it than either of the pair were admitting. She didn't know what they thought that she and Harry were doing. Her mother had given her the talk years ago, but she knew that she wasn't even close to old enough to be doing anything… like that.

She wanted to be angry with her family, but she knew that they were only looking out for her. In an annoying sort of way, she knew that they were only doing this because they genuinely cared about her and her friend. She just wished that they would realize that she wasn't dumb enough to be doing anything she shouldn't be, and leave her alone to spend time with her best friend, who she had hadn't seen in a month and a half.

She wasn't sure if Harry realized the reason for all of the interruptions. He had commented on them, and seemed to be as annoyed as she was. But she wasn't sure if he had managed to put two and two together yet. He was a boy after all, and they weren't the most aware of the reasoning behind other's actions.

She needed to talk to him about this whole situation. She had been putting it off because she still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about Harry. She knew she was too young to really have proper feelings for him, and she didn't want to get into something that wasn't real. But she knew she felt something. It was just a matter of figuring out what it was. That was the other reason that she wanted to talk to Harry about this whole thing. She needed to know where he stood on the whole situation. If he had the same feelings, maybe she wasn't completely out of line with it. She just needed the right time to initiate the conversation.

She found her opportunity the next day, while her brothers were out playing quidditch. Harry was supposed to be out with them, but he had opted out so that they could spend time together. They only had a week left before returning to Hogwarts, and he said that he wanted to take advantage of as much time as they could. Apparently, taking advantage of the time they had left together meant playing endless games of exploding snap in the living room.

As the played, she realized that this must have been how Harry felt when he was talking to Hermione. Though it wasn't exactly the same situation, she was realizing how awkward it was to approach the topic, and how hard it was to find the right words to explain what was on her mind. She had made a few false starts, and then chickened out and changed the topic. It didn't take long for Harry to notice that she was abnormally quiet.

"Knut for your thoughts?" he asked, as he laid down the last cards in his hand.

"Just thinking about stuff Mum and some others have said to me," she said, trying to sound casual despite her racing heart.

He looked up at her, a funny look on his face. Had someone said something to him as well? It almost looked as though he might have an idea as to where this conversation was going. "What have they been saying?" he asked, a little hesitantly.

"Just a lot of them have been asking if we're, you know, dating or something." She was careful not to look up at Harry's face, nervous for his reaction. If she had looked up, she would have noticed that his face had turned a bright pink.

The pair were both silent for a moment. It was clear that neither of them were entirely sure how to have this conversation. Both kept their heads down, not looking at the other, and wearing matching, pink expressions.

"Well… er… What do you… er… think?" Harry finally asked, nervously.

She was surprised by this response. She had expected the usual response her brothers gave when they were asked about girls: quickly changing the subject, or denying anything to do with the situation. But he had responded as though he might have considered it.

"I don't know," she replied, hesitantly. "We're kind of… young, I guess. Most of my brothers didn't start dating until they were at least in fourth year. For the ones they told us about, anyway."

He bit his lip. "Maybe we should talk about this next year?"

She nodded. She could feel that her face was still red, and talking about this wasn't changing that fact. "Yeah, I guess. I think twelve is too young to have a boyfriend anyway."

Harry nodded. "And I kind of like what we're doing now. It's nice to just be friends and play quidditch and all that. I guess I just don't feel that way about anybody yet. I figure I'll know when I do, but I don't think that's now."

She looked up at him, as he awkwardly dealt out a new hand of cards. She couldn't tell if he really wanted to play again, or if he just needed something to focus on other than the conversation at hand. She couldn't really blame him. She had never been involved in such an awkward discussion before.

"So, friends, then?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

"Friends," he replied, with a smile.

"Good," she said, as she played her first card. "I don't want to catch your cooties anyway, Potter. They might make me sick."

* * *

Summer was coming to an end, and Ginny still hadn't managed to get the twins back for what they had done to her in Egypt. In the Weasley house, if you pulled a prank on someone, it was only right that they return the favour. The twins had somehow managed to make Harry's face appear on every single piece of clothing she owned, as well as her bedspread, and she had yet to figure out how to get them back for it.

The tricky part was that she needed the right idea. Their prank had been rather intricate, and she knew she couldn't match the magic it must have required on her own, since she was three years behind them in school. She would have to make up for her lack of magical skills with some creativity. That's why she had waited so long. She knew she needed the perfect idea, but she was starting to run out of time.

It wasn't until a few nights before she returned to Hogwarts that she finally thought of something perfect. It had actually been a conversation with Harry that had given her the idea. He had mentioned a film he had seen on television at the Dursley's, where the two main characters had switched bodies. While it would be rather silly to have the twins change into each other (since so few people could tell the difference between them anyway, her brothers included), it would be interesting to turn them into someone else that would guarantee a reaction.

She had contacted Bill with her idea, since she knew the magic for this was going to be harder than she had anticipated using for a prank. While the spells were by no means simple, they weren't nearly as hard as she had expected them to be. She planned to take her oldest brother's advice and charm something they would come into contact with, since it would lessen the effects of the spells if she were to do them wrong.

She set it up two mornings before they were due to leave for Hogwarts. Generally, she liked her sleep, and would be the last one out of bed in the morning, but not today. She was up with the sun, helping her mother prepare breakfast. Her mother had given her a strange look for being up so early in the morning, but hadn't said anything. Mrs. Weasley probably knew that something was going to happen, but as usual, she wasn't going to get involved until she absolutely needed to. The rules for pranking in the Weasley household were well known by all residents.

While her mother was retrieving some bread from the pantry, she quickly cast the charms on the forks placed in front of the twins' chairs. The utensils glowed a faint green, as Bill had said they would, and she felt confident that she had managed to do it correctly. Now it was time to sit back, wait, and enjoy the show.

The twins were the last to stumble down to breakfast, chattering cryptically about some plan or other. As usual, the rest of her brothers and Harry just ignored them. They were used to this unceasing chatter that made no sense to anyone but the two boys. Ginny stuffed a large forkful of eggs into her mouth to keep from smiling when they sat down and began loading their plates with food. Let the fun begin.

As soon as the twins touched their utensils, a puff of pink smoke appeared, and they emerged coughing. They took one quick look at each other and burst out laughing. One had been transformed into a spitting image of Percy, who was sitting further down the table, looking displeased and offended at his clone. The other had taken on the appearance of Snape in a Weasley jumper. The entire family stared for a moment, the room completely silent aside from the twins' laughter. But the silence quickly turned to laughter, as everyone caught onto what had happened and Percy - the real one - rose from his chair and stomped out of the room.

The twins tried to make a few jokes out of the situation they now found themselves in, but wereunable to be heard over the laughter of their family. They quickly turned to Ginny, knowing without a doubt that this had been from her hand, and bowed quickly to her.

"Now, Miss Weasley, tell us how we are supposed to turn back before I throw you in detention every night for the next month," George-Snape snarled at his younger sister.

"Don't worry," she replied, casually. "The spells should wear off in an hour or so. Bill didn't tell me how to reverse it earlier than that. He just said it was easiest to just let things go back to normal, so you both are stuck like that for a little while longer."

"Well, Perce, what you do you think?" George said to his brother. "Should we go terrorize some of the neighbours and create some interesting stories for our dear older brother?"

"Why, Snape, I do think that is a wonderful idea," he replied. "Just let me grab my books and I shall join you out front."

The twins took off, and the rest of the family turned back to their breakfast, feeling much more cheerful than they had previously. As Ginny finished her meal, feeling proud that she had been able to pull off such a fantastic prank, she caught Harry's eye across the table.

'_Good job, Gin."_

* * *

The night before everyone returned to Hogwarts was always marked by a big celebration at the Burrow. It was the last time that everyone would be together until the Christmas holidays, so it meant a big feast and lots of good company. It usually also meant small presents from their parents, if there was extra money once all their school supplies had been purchased. It was normally just something small for each of them that could come in handy during the school year, but it was something that each of the Weasley children looked forward to every year.

Ginny had spent most of her day reading with Harry. She had managed to pack most of her things the day before, so while her brothers were rushing around and gathering everything that had been strewn around the house, she was getting to relax and enjoy their last day of freedom before returning to school. While she wasn't entirely sure that Harry was enjoying the novels she had found in Charlie's room or if he was just reading them to spend more time with her, she was enjoying his company and their last few minutes alone.

She had considered going downstairs and helping her mother set up in the garden, but she knew she would only be shooed upstairs. It was the last time that Mrs. Weasley would have the opportunity to do something big for her children before Christmas.

When the clock struck five, she closed her book and stretched. She had lost track of how long they had been reading for. It had been so nice just to feel the heat from his body against hers, and feel him relax into her side. She knew that they wouldn't be able to do this nearly as much once they reached Hogwarts. There were too many people around the Gryffindor common room, and it wasn't as though there were many places that they could sneak off to if they wanted to spend time together. With this in mind, she wanted to enjoy every last second that she could spend with her best friend.

"Should we head down to the garden?" she asked Harry. He nodded quickly, not taking his eyes off the book. Apparently he had been enjoying the book more than she had thought. He dog-eared the page once he had finished reading and tossed the book onto her bed.

"Do you think that Fred and George are going to retaliate tonight?" he asked, as he stretched, letting her pull him to his feet.

"I doubt it," she replied, running a quick brush though her hair. It was amazing how tangled it got when she hadn't been doing anything all day. Though, now that she was thinking about it, it probably had something to do with the fact that Harry had been playing with her hair earlier. She hadn't thought to stop him, since it had felt so nice. "They would probably wait until we're at Hogwarts. They like having more of an audience." She set the brush down on her dresser. "And they know better than to mess with Mum's before-Hogwarts supper. She'd murder them."

The two kids left her room and headed down to the back garden. Mrs. Weasley had done a fantastic job decorating the garden with faerie lights and flowers. A large table covered in a white tablecloth had been set up in the middle, laden with large platters of all of the Weasley favourites and specialties.

Ginny couldn't help but let out a shriek when she saw her two oldest brothers sitting at the table. They had both said that they were unsure if they would be able to make it, because they may not be able to get off of work. She was excited that they had come, since she only got to see each of them a few times a year, now that they no longer lived at home. Being the baby of the family, she had always been closest to her oldest brothers, and she took advantage of their presence whenever possible.

She grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him over to where Bill and Charlie were sitting.

"Bill, Charlie, this is my best friend, Harry Potter," she told her brothers. Being his usual polite self, Harry held out his hand to both of them.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Bill said, as he shook hands. "It feels a little silly being introduced to you, since I've heard so much about you, between the stories and the lengthy letters from my little sister here."

Harry turned bright red at Bill's comments, but was saved by Mr. Weasley calling everyone to the table. The garden quickly filled with exclamations about the delicious food in front of them, and chatters about a variety of topics. Ginny found herself stuck in the middle of a heated debate about the quidditch cup that had taken place earlier in the summer. The results had been less than favourable for certain members of the family, and they were rather vocal in expressing their distaste. Not wanting to get involved, she ate quietly, enjoying the fact that her entire family and her best friend were with her.

After everyone had eaten as much as they could, Mr. Weasley retrieved a small bag from underneath the table. Everyone went silent with anticipation. The gifts were handed out, and each person took turn opening their gift and showing it to the rest of the family. Most of the gifts were handy things such as nice quills, notebooks, or framed photographs.

When it came to Harry, he quickly opened his gift, simply excited that the Weasleys had been kind enough to give him something at all.

'_Remind me when the holidays come to find something nice for your parents, since they have been so nice to me.'_

'_Will do. Now hurry up and open your present. I want to see what it is, and what's in mine.'_

He removed the final bits of paper from his gift, revealing a small device on a hoop of metal that looked almost like a muggle clicker. He looked it over, but had no idea what exactly it was supposed to be used for.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Harry, your gift is a little less useful than some of the others. It's a scorekeeper for your broom. When you click the button on each side, the number will go up by ten. I know sometimes you need to keep track of score because you need a certain number of points before you catch the snitch, so I thought this might come in handy for you."

"This is fantastic, Mr. Weasley!" he replied. The device in his hand was far more interesting now that he knew what it was for. "Wood will love this."

Now that Harry had finished opening his gift, Ginny wasted no time in pulling the paper off of hers. She had never been one for patience, and waiting this long to see what was hidden beneath the paper had been driving her crazy. Removing the last of the wrappings revealed a framed photograph of her and Harry reading down by the lake.

"Your father took it when neither of you were looking," her mother explained, while she gave her a hug. "We thought you might like having a picture of the two of you. Harry, dear, we've made a copy of the photo for you as well. You can add it to the album you received first year. We have some of you and the boys playing quidditch as well."

"Speaking of quidditch," Charlie said, interrupting with a smirk. She had seen this face before, and she knew a competition was coming along. "Do you think I could steal your boyfriend for a quick seeker match?"

"He's not my boyfriend," she retorted quickly. She hated the fact that she could feel herself blushing, since she knew it wasn't helping her case at all. "And I don't care if you steal him. He's not mine."

"Whatever you say, Gin-Gin," her brother replied, dismissing her comment. He turned to Harry. "What do you say? Want to see who's the better seeker?"

"Charlie, do we really need to have this competition now?" Mrs. Weasley asked wearily, looking at the lovely set up she had so worked hard on.

"Mum, all I've been hearing about this kid is that he's the best seeker Gryffindor's seen in ages, and he could easily beat me. I just want to see if it's true," he explained. "Come on, Potter. Let's give it a go. Whoever catches the snitch first gets the glory."

Ginny knew that Harry couldn't turn down the chance to test out his quidditch skills, so she wasn't surprised when he nodded in response to her brother and took off into the house to retrieve his broom. Her brother followed suit, borrowing one of the twin's brooms from the shed.

"Wait, you can't ride a Nimbus in this," Charlie complained, when Harry returned to the garden. "Your broom alone gives you an unfair advantage. If we're going to do this right, we both need to be on the same type of broom. This is a contest of skill. We need to keep it that way."

Harry nodded, and grabbed George's broom. They would both be riding old Cleansweeps, so this really would come down to a competition of skill. Neither broom could go fast enough to allow for luck. She knew she should remain neutral as far as this whole thing went, since Harry was her best friend and Charlie was her brother. However, she couldn't help but hope that Harry showed her brother up. She loved her brother dearly, but she really wanted her friend to win.

The two boys took off on their brooms, getting a feel for what they were riding. After a few minutes, the snitch was let go, and the competition began. She knew it was only a silly competition, but she felt the same excitement that she associated with games at Hogwarts. She could only imagine how exciting it must be to actually play a real game. Maybe it would be worth trying out for the Gryffindor team.

The competition started off in a rather dull manner. The snitch had apparently taken off, and neither of the two seekers seemed able to find it. It had to be around, since Mr. Weasley had put barrier charms on the field where they played so they couldn't loose their supplies, but it was hiding from the two. Both boys circled the field, keeping an eye on each other, as well as the space around them.

Suddenly, just as Charlie was approaching Harry from behind, the younger boy turned into a high-speed dive to the ground. Charlie looked surprised, but quickly followed in the plummet. Ginny felt an instant of fear when he started getting close to the ground; he wasn't going to be able to pull out of it in time.

But somehow, he pulled it off. She breathed a sigh of relief, watching him take off into the air. Charlie hadn't faired so well. He had managed to pull out of the dive in time to keep from colliding with the ground, but had still landed on his behind. Glancing up at the young boy flying above him, he swore and kicked off from the ground again, taking off after Harry.

It wasn't long before Charlie caught sight of the snitch hovering near a far tree. Harry took off after him, but he seemed to be frustrated with how slow the Cleansweep was going. He somehow managed to catch up, but Charlie was already closing in on the snitch. Ginny saw him frown for a moment, then smile. She knew he had thought of something.

She watched him bolt upwards, until he was hovering over Charlie and the snitch. She saw her brother glance upwards at Harry in confusion, but he didn't waver. Suddenly, Harry dove downwards over the snitch, grabbing it out from in front of Charlie as he went down. The Weasleys started cheering. The two boys landed, and shook hands.

"That was brilliant, Harry," Charlie told the younger boy. "Great job with the Wronski Feint, as well. You definitely got me on that one. I'll know better than to keep on your tail next time."

Harry moved to sit back down at the table, clearly tired from the competition, while the rest of the Weasleys gathered brooms and went to play at pick up game. They invited Harry and Ginny to join, but both had declined. He was tired, and she wanted to take advantage of any time she had to spend with her best friend alone.

She loved her family and she knew she would miss them dearly, but right now, she really just wanted to spend time with Harry. It was a strange feeling, and she wasn't sure why she felt that way. She had been noticing this more and more as she spent time with him. But when Hogwarts was coming up so soon and they wouldn't have private places to sneak away to, she wasn't going to question the whole thing. That's probably all it was anyway. She was probably just dreading returning to Hogwarts and not being able to spend as much quality alone time with him.

After a few glasses of water and a little bit more dessert, the two kids left the garden, heading for Ginny's room. They weren't entirely sure how they got away with sneaking up there so often, since Ginny had been so sure that her mum would find out right away and throw a fit. Her family seemed to know about it, but as long as they were okay with interruptions, no one said anything to them.

Harry lay down on the bed, and Ginny snuggled up again him, enjoying the warmth of his skin. She was going to miss these moments where they could be alone, and no one was making comments about them. She loved her family dearly, but the jokes about Harry being her boyfriend were starting to get a little old. Of course she spent a lot of time with him; he was her best friend after all. But that didn't mean that they were a couple.

All of this talk about Harry being her boyfriend had gotten her thinking though. She was still sure that she didn't want Harry to be her boyfriend, and she knew they were too young to be thinking about things like that, but she couldn't help but wonder about certain things. In particular, she was really curious about what it would be like to kiss someone.

It didn't really matter who she kissed, since it was just the action she was interested in. The interest in kissing Harry probably only existed because he was the only boy who she might have a chance of kissing in the near future. She just couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like, how she would react, and what she would think about it afterwards. She wanted to try it, just to see.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked.

She felt herself blush, not really wanting to say what had been on her mind. She buried her face in Harry's shirt, hoping that she could hide her bright red face from him. She didn't want him to laugh at her.

"Just about going back to school tomorrow, and how much I'm going to miss getting to hang out with you all of the time," she lied, hoping he would accept this response.

"We'll still have time together," he replied, with a slight shrug. "We'll just be spending more of it doing homework, instead of playing games and flying."

"I know. It's just not the same."

They laid together for a moment in silence, enjoying the cool breeze coming in through the open window. Harry spoke again, breaking the silence. "That's not actually what you were thinking about, was it?"

She looked at him, and felt her face flush again. She swore in her mind, wishing she wasn't so easy to read. She buried her face in his shirt again.

"You can tell me what it is," he said, quietly. "I'm not going to laugh at you."

She took a deep breath. She was going to have to tell him, because he wasn't going to let this go any time soon.

"I was just wondering… er… what it might be like to kiss someone."

She had whispered the last part, but she knew he had heard her. She wanted to hide and never show her face again. He was probably laughing at her now, even though he said he wouldn't. He was going to tell her brothers and Hermione, and she would never be able to live it down. She was going to be mocked for this for the rest of her life.

But when she looked up, Harry wasn't laughing at her. He was smiling, and not even in a mocking way. It was more of an I-understand smile, if a nervous one. She wasn't sure why he might be nervous, but she was pleased that he wasn't making fun of her.

"Do you… er… want to… er… try it?" he asked, staring down at her hands.

He actually wanted to do it? She wasn't overly surprised when he hadn't laughed at her, since Harry was generally a nice person (she felt bad for even thinking he might be that mean). But she hadn't expected him to suggest that they try kissing. But since he had offered, she wasn't going to turn him down. She had been thinking about this for a while now, and she was ready to jump at the opportunity.

She sat up and so did he. Neither was really sure what they were supposed to do, and how they were supposed to move together. They shifted awkwardly, moving their heads closer to the other. She briefly wondered if she was supposed to close her eyes when it happened. That's what had always happened in books, but she wasn't sure if that rule applied when it was a kiss with your best friend just so you could try it.

Finally, they figured out where they should put their heads, and they pressed their lips together. Ginny closed her eyes. It made her stomach feel like it was filled with butterflies and like she was floating. His lips were soft against hers and warm. It was fantastic.

All too soon, he had pulled away, and wiped his mouth.

"Well, that was kind of weird," he said, lying back down on the bed. "I don't really get what the big deal is about snogging if that's all there is to it."

She nodded, pressing her hand to her lips. He lay back down on the bed, pulling a book off the nightstand. He may not have been impressed by it, but she sure had. If that was what it felt like every time, she couldn't wait until she kissed someone again.


End file.
